I loathe baby showers…

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.

All I want to do is pile my plate really high with more food, take off my high heels and laugh (snort) with someone that thinks Nacho Libre is one of the best cinematic presentations ever.

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.

This is our baby shower invitation. And it has received mixed reviews. (As do most things that I put out there for the world to see.)

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?