You’re three months old and already a thief and a stowaway! You boarded this ship and snuck down the stairs, down into the deepest curves of the hull. You found the treasure chest and stole my gold – my time, my energy, my attention, my love. You moved in and strung up a laundry line of diapers and darling smiles. I know your tricks. And now, you’re sleeping in that big wooden chest, snoring contentedly as the waves sing rock-a-bye baby. You’ve curled up with my heart and I don’t think I’ll be getting it back any time soon. You can have it all little thief. Just promise you’ll never leave.