Oh dear

There is a changing table in my bedroom. I tried to disguise it with a stereo, but it's not working. Every time I look over, I see it and have a minor panic attack. I think "that's a dumb thing to have in our bedroom." And then I think "we're going to need that very soon." And then I think "oh shit." Because is someone really going to let us take a baby home? By ourselves? I keep remembering that time in elementary school that I got to take the library hamster home and I picked it up out of the cage by its tail and then part of its tail fell off. I had to bring it back after vacation with a big bloody scab at the end of the tail and my mom said that my sister and I were never allowed to own or even babysit for another hamster. And now someone is going to let me take care of a baby?