Postmortem of a Baby Shower

First, a digression in the form of this recent verbal exchange:

J: Did you put the bananas in the freezer?
Me: Uh, No.
J: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, I'm sure. I took a banana last night, that is the last time I touched them.
J: Because I don't remember putting them in the freezer.
Me: You took one this morning. It had to be you, you are the last person to touch them.
J: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
J: I was really out of it this morning.

Saturday could have been worse. Much worse. I could have been forced to play “Guess How Fat the Pregnant Guest-of-Honor Is”. Instead I had to listen to 10,000 variations on how our life will change and 10,001 variations on how I'll change my mind about being pregnant once the first one is born.

I had to physically block J's sister from touching my stomach. She was offended, possibly because since I am family, she shouldn't have to ask permission. It is interesting that the biggest offenders in the pat-the-pregnant-belly game have been members of J's family. I have not had this problem with my family members, total strangers or even J (who checks first, because sometimes the muscles are so sore that I could cry).

As I am of the persuasion who believes that pregnant women and infant children are not public property, even to family members, I was indifferent to her outrage. And I will continue to practice that indifference after the alien comes and the full on assault of complaints about hand washing and limited traveling begin.

Other than that incident, the shower went smoothly. I managed to maintain a straight face through lunch, while listening to a friend of J's family talk about how hard she had prayed for her daughter to have a child (uh, maybe her daughter did not want to be pregnant?) and how she can't understand why anyone could be an atheist after experiencing the miracle of conception, pregnancy and childbirth. My friend B, who was able to come and sat next to me during the meal, got a great deal of enjoyment out of watching me maintain that straight face and was able to bear witness to the the craziness of J's family.

And my friend B received, as a prize for baby bingo, a “Keep the Christ in Christmas” magnet, which I found hilarious, as B is an agnostic who appreciates the irony in spreading an anti-consumerist message by selling something.

Listening to my MIL attempt to organize baby bingo into special games was also entertaining and led me to make the crack "You can't tell this is a room of Catholics" to my sister-in-law.

The gifts were lovely and not too Christmas themed. The atrocity of the day belongs to a soft pink Winnie-the-Pooh layette set, given by an individual who must really, really want an alien of the female persuasion.

Sunday was spent sorting and storing all the paraphernalia, writing 38 thank you notes and washing, folding and putting away clothes. J spend the morning hanging pictures and the afternoon with his family, who asked him when we were planning on having another child.

Oy. The first (and only) one has not even arrived and they are already salivating over the possibility of a second. I can not help but think that they intentionally waited for a time when I was not present to ask this question, as my response would have been extremely snarky.