Just attended what I hope will be the last Baby Shower of my life. It’s one of those things, like Tupperware parties, that can stay with you for a long time. And like a bad meal, it doesn’t go down well and the memorable parts are generally not the ones that bring back the fondest of memories.
Actually, this one was fine, but the lingering memories of past baby showers, wedding showers, Tupperware parties, or just fashion/jewelry parties where you are expected to buy something and make small talk, are indelibly printed in large neon flashing warning signs in the remotest corners of my brain box.
Someone noted later that we left the party before they played games. Darn, I’m so sorry I missed the games portion of the program. To quote Jack Nicholson, “I’d rather stick needles in my eyes”. There must be a special corner in hell for those who came up with the original idea of having women sit around and not only talk about their horrific experiences in giving birth to their children, but also to tack on some completely inane parlor game just to add insult to the original injury.
The poor pregnant mother-to-be is usually ready to fortify herself with a nice stiff drink, which she is unable to have due to the impending birth. And the mothers and grandmothers all try to be helpful and malicious at the same time as they offer advice and support, along with more horror stories.
Giving birth was never meant to be anything but a momentous occasion, but the ritual of baby showers does seem to be overkill. The best idea is to give the party for the fathers-to-be, and include them in all the fun. Men are expected to do more these days in the diaper-changing and hands-on parenting department, so it seems fitting that they should also be included (subjected) to the perils and pleasures of the obligatory baby shower.