Goldi swung herself out of bed and padded over to the baby's crib in what had become a ritual in this first week of her son's life. She picked him up, cradling him in one arm while grabbing a clean square of cloth with the other.
Once he was dry, she settled herself into the rocking chair by the window to nurse him. She glanced up at her husband, still sound asleep. She had never been annoyed that Fari didn't notice the baby's cries. She giggled. He could barely manage a coherent sentence in the morning, let alone a diaper.