There is nothing that strikes fear in an over-60 woman like a small invitation in the mail. You jiggle it hoping it’s a coupon from Chico’s but you know it’s not. You turn it over and over in your hand trying to figure out who is doing something that warrants an invitation. Secretly you are hoping that it’s for a barbecue except that it’s January.
With great trepidation you open it. OH NO! It’s a baby shower! Please Lord, I’ll be good….don’t make me go!!!! I’ll get a root canal instead!
It doesn’t matter that you really like the mother-to-be. She will be a great mom. The thought of selecting a baby gift and spending several hours oo-ing and ah-ing diapers, bibs and such is totally lost on me. Oh, yes, all this goes on without margaritas and chocolate. That is just wrong!
Nonetheless, I planned to attend the baby shower. My niece Anita, her three grown daughters and my sister-in-law were also going to be there. They are fun people and I like to spend time with them.
My sister-in-law Betty is 81 but a very young 81 except when she thinks her age will allow her to get out of something. We rarely let that happen. Heart attack symptoms that mysteriously pop up will not exempt her from attending. I picked her up just to be sure.
Anita was beside herself because it was scheduled for Super Bowl Sunday. She is one of the biggest football fans ever. Most of her emails revolving around the details ended with a sentence like….I can’t believe this is on Super Bowl Sunday!
Her three daughters were there looking gorgeous – hot roach-killer shoes, bouncy curls and enough jewelry to warrant a professional heist. No, we don’t live in New Jersey with Snooki! They are just young and gorgeous!
I did my best. I wore my new hot boots. Well, they are old lady hot. I knew my feet would most likely be unhappy but damn they looked good!
I needed a gift. The bride was registered. I printed out a five-page list and went to the store. I started to get hives and feel a bit woozy. This isn’t real shopping! I never had children (oops, it was on my to-do list!) so most of this stuff is foreign to me. Oh dear, what exactly is a nipple protector? What is a onesy?
The staff was not really helpful. Someone tries to tell me a mattress pad is a bed sheet. I may not be very savvy when it comes to babies but I know the difference between a mattress pad and a bed sheet! The mother wants natural, organic stuff. I am not sure what that means when it comes to baby things.
Too late in the game, Anita tells me I could have ordered on-line and had it delivered. That would have solved the hives/woozy problem. I purchased a gift certificate – right color, right size! We don’t know the sex of the child so maybe this will give the poor critter something to wear that isn’t yellow or green.
On the long drive to the shower location, it occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything except my Starbucks mocha latte. Oh, oh. Shower is at 1 p.m. Despite my pitiful pleas, Anita, who drove this motley group, would not stop for a pizza. This certainly explains why her beloved Steelers didn’t make the Super Bowl.
Walking in the hall, I was struck by the estrogen in the room. I hadn’t been around this much hormone since I stopped working. Wow! I was thankful for my hot boots! Another niece (also gorgeous!) was now a redhead. She has hair halfway down her back and it was now red!
As luck would have it, they served food first! Yay! There was no keg, no wine box, nor was there any spiked punch but there was periogi casserole. I was expecting a long afternoon.
It wasn’t. Just being with family was fun. I got to see some relatives I rarely see. I know what a onesy is. They didn’t make me play any weird games. The afternoon was lovely…..and yes, we got home in time for Anita to see the entire Super Bowl. However, all that won’t change the fear and trepidation I will feel when I get another little invitation in the mail.