I have been subjected to (tortured at) many a shower. Whether it’s a bridal or baby, it’s all the same to me. You are cornered in a room full of people you don’t know, eating on tiny plates and talking about the only thing you have in common-the host.
Men don’t realize this, but as a woman, you are subjected to all sorts of horrors–disguised in pink and yellow decor, along with mandated group responses of “oohs and ahhs” for the 10th time over a pair of tiny socks. AND-you must play games like “sniff the diaper”, and pretend you are having a great time.
However, I’m usually wedged in between Aunt Ethel and Grandma Betty and the last movie they viewed at the “movie house” involved Robert Redford’s first starring role. So, I sit back and relax and carefully dip my celery stick into the unnamed dip. And I try to go unnoticed as I pick that horrible celery stringy thing from my teeth.
So, that’s why I did this.
I will promise you this-there will be no games at our baby shower. There will be no sniffing of diapers. No clothes pins. No pacifier exchange. No frou-frou decor.
But, there will be food-and lots of it-on giant plates. There will also be men present at our Co-Ed shower. There will be no belly measuring, no guessing of the baby names, and no forced oohing and ahhing.
Is that wrong?