Babies and other such Nonsense

I went to a baby shower today for a family friend. It was definitely the stereotypical, let's all goo and gush and make unnaturally high pitched squealing sounds over baby stuff, ultrasounds, and all that crap. Don't get me wrong...I love babies. I really do. I love big families, having come from one myself, and I want lots of kids someday. Maybe 17...I haven't decided yet. All I'm saying is that I am not fond of estrogen-powered "lady" parties. I was proud to have the role of the token young, free-spirited single girl at this particular event.

The women would smile at me and sigh, as if they knew some great secret that I don't know yet. She can't possibly understand us, we remember what it was like to be young and free. They kept making "Mommy" jokes that only women who have had the sense of humor sucked out of them by one of those little bundles of joy could possibly find funny. I mean, when the day comes that I am found gushing over embroidered giraffes and paisley lettering, someone, PLEASE kick me in the pants. Alas, it's inevitable, isn't it? You don't have to tell me, I know I will eat these words someday. Aren't you just glad that it's all documented on the internet, to rub in my face later?

"Oh, but nothing can compare to the joy of a child," says a woman as her baby throws up all over her. By the way, this kid hasn't stopped screaming since she arrived...wait, is that a little glimmer of envy of my carefree, come-and-go-as-I-please life, I see in her eyes? Oh no, it's just some throw up.