Baby Shower Indignation

Or Why You Can Now Throw Me Under the Bus

Can you hear them backing up? What you ask? It’s the fleet of buses being thrown into reverse to mow me over.

Why? Because I’m going to make statement that will divide my loyal readers (both of them) into two camps: the “I can’t believe you said that” group and my “I’m with you sister, wish I’d said it myself’ band of loyal followers.

I can’t stand baby showers.

There, I said it. Fire up your engines. I’ll stand quietly while you flatten me.

Don’t make me walk into that shop

Baby showers; I just don’t see the point. Just because two people decide to multiply doesn’t mean I have to join in the fun. I realize I’m sparking a firestorm of criticism with these statements. Please don’t misunderstand me. I love babies. Other people’s babies … when they’re old enough to be cute and entertaining and not when they cry and get all crusty and dribbly.*

Baby showers necessitate procurement of the traditional baby shower gift. Imagine me aimlessly wandering around a mall for hours trying to select a gift and empty my wallet. Indeed, I admit I am wholly ill prepared for such outings. I have neither the first, nor second, clue about procuring baby-related items.

Let’s get this party started

Thankfully this shower spared the attendees forced participation in nonsensical shower games. Few things in life insult my intelligence but shower games top the list. (That reminds me of the time I drove for two hours to Indy to attend a quasi-friend’s mega-stupid wedding shower only to be ignored by the bride’s mother after offering caustic answers to every shower game question. At least I didn’t have to drop way too many dollars on the always gaudy dress-and-shoes combo since I weaseled out of the bride’s request for me to join her altar-side. The world would not have benefited from me wearing taffeta in December. And the shade of blue she selected would not have complimented my skin tone.)

Back to the babies

Ask someone in the know about such things and they speak an entirely new language. What is a one-zie? Wait, don’t tell me. I’m not so interested.

Why can’t women like me just buy women like her lip gloss? Am I correct in thinking she still needs lip gloss, right? One would think having the latest seasonal shades at the ready would sooth any new mom from postpartum unhappiness? Wouldn’t it?

Get to the point, Les

All the blathering leads me to the basic question: Why doesn’t society see the need to give parties like that to women like me? Again, I realize I’m scratching away what little social acceptance I scraped together, but just stay with me for a minute.

I’m proud to say I’m not alone in this situation. My dear friend of 21 years, Suzanne, is in the side car of my single, child-free woman Harley. (Suzanne is married but we think in the same fashion.  And her husband likely wouldn’t care.) She sat next me while attending the shower and pretty much rescued the whole ordeal. As I slid next to her in the restaurant booth, I leaned over and repeated a statement she’s heard from me numerous times, “I really don’t do well at these gatherings.”

“I hate them” she replied. Suzanne is the one-woman choir to my caustic preaching.

“Why can’t the universe progress beyond this?” she continued. Suzanne frames most questions in a way that demands existential examination.

I just want to whine.

So American society, why don’t single, women with no kids ever get any parties-for-no-reason?

Suzanne and I have no explanation. But we have a remedy.

Introducing the whammyjuice.com approved “Self-Indulgent Party for Yourself.” Don’t wait for a group of semi-interested acquaintances with questionable taste to throw your party. Do it yourself by following these three easy-peasy steps:

1.   Begin your party day by scheduling two salon services. I highly recommend the spa pedicure / facial combo because, ladies, with the ozone layer going bye-bye everyday, you just can’t take too many precautions with your complexion. And no one likes flaky toe nails.

2.   Schedule lunch at your favorite restaurant. For added success with this step invite Lisa, Suzanne and myself. We guarantee fun for all.

3.   And this final step is straight from Suzanne, go to Saks** and purchase three items. As she so eloquently stated, “Just pick three things and buy them. It’s easy.”

End of conversation. Please commence the parties.

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*Important notice: Whammyjuice.com land is filled with love for babies and remains loyal to its motto “We love them, we just don’t have them.” The corollary to this motto extends to teenagers, especially our nieces and nephews who embody teen perfection.

**Any other high-end retailer counts if you can’t get to Saks. Our local store isn’t open past six.