Nod Pod Blanket Novels & Stories

He was holding a tiny Allen wrench in his hand, staring at it with the kind of pure, unadulterated hatred he usually reserved for hostile takeovers. "It’s the Snu-Z-Pod 9000," he muttered, not looking up. "It has integrated white noise, motion-sensing rocking, and a built-in carbon dioxide monitor that alerts my phone if the baby’s breathing pattern shifts by more than two percent." "Dom, the baby is currently the size of a lemon," I said, leaning against the doorframe and popping a juicy, garlic-heavy pickle into my mouth from a jar I’d snagged from the pantry on my way down. "I think the escape pod is a bit premature. Also, I’m pretty sure that thing could launch our kid into low-earth orb

When I walked in, Zara’s eyes lit up like I’d brought gold. “What’s in the bag, sugar daddy?” she asked immediately. I laughed despite myself and set the paper shopping bag on the coffee table. “Not sugar daddy. Just a guy who hates seeing you shiver.” I pulled out the weighted blanket—soft gray fleece, fifteen pounds, the kind that feels like a hug when you’re too tired to ask for one. Zara’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God. Is this the one I kept staring at online last month?” “Yeah. You sent Rae the link. She forwarded it to me. Figured it’d help on the bad days.”