When you have a baby, people give you blankets. Now, I would have thought prior to having a baby that elventy twelve blankets would be roughly eleventy eleven too many. I know the error of my thinking. Babies love blankets. Babies love to puke. Ipso facto, eleventy twelve blankets is exactly the right number. It’s like pi. It’s a universal construct. I believe the ampersand shall represent, mathematically, the right number of baby blankets.
Diana provided the one Claire is sleeping in. Claire loves it. And we love it because it is like a knockout gas.