(Rebecca's POV)
By nightfall, Eric has a shared document open on his laptop, and I already know we're in trouble.
BOSE-KING v1.0. Tabs across the top — Nutrition, OB Shortlist, Crib Load Specs, and one labeled simply JOKES, which when I click it open contains exactly one entry: dad jokes for delivery room, categorized by contraction severity.
"You've had four hours," I say. "Four hours, Eric."
"I've been productive." He doesn't look up from the spreadsheet he's building for the OB shortlist, columns for distance, hospital rating, and — this makes me laugh out loud — vibe, subjective, weighted 15%.
We laugh more that evening than we have in the entire month before it. Actual, easy laughter, the kind that comes without effort once you stop bracing against everything for even a few hours
