Baby at a Baby Shower

Baby at a Baby Shower party theme - thumbnail image

Parrrr-tayyyy! Hey, it's my special day and this baby is ready to raise the roof on the bestest baby shower ever. And the guests are piling in... Ding-Dong! That's right, Mom, answer the door. Let 'em in. Let all the ladies in--especially the ones with big baby shower gifts. That's right, stack them on that table next to the picture of me. Okay, granted, that's not my best look. I got the squishy face thing going on with the one tuft of hair sticking straight up like an antennae and the toothless smile. But, come on, I was like, what, two days out of the womb and just getting used to wearing a diaper. Sometimes the plastic tabs pinch on those things.

As my dad was getting booted out of the house today, I heard him saying something about "a roomful of soccer moms," but I gotta tell you I haven't seen one lady kicking around one of those spotted white balls and clearly no one is wearing cleats. No, the mood and the dress is what I like to call Suburban Casual... lots of banana strap frilly things with comfortable shoes and stretchy pants. And you know I'm okay with stretchy pants, it's my thing until my parents are convinced I won't eat buttons.

I have to admit, though, I am a little disappointed that no one really went all out on the baby shower theme. It clearly stated on the invitations that this was to be a Cuddly Teddy Bear party. And this wasn't a theme my mom surprised on people. In fact, we sent out pre-invitations asking about baby shower ideas. The Teddy Bear Theme came back as the number one response (although I personally was hoping for the Rootin' Tootin' Comwboy concept considering I'd get to wear the cool hat and boots).

Nonetheless, Mom and Dad settled on the Teddy Bear idea and the stuffed-bear-in-a-box invitations went out along with a cautionary sticker that read: "Please don't feed the bear." As the guests RSVP'd, they all said how much they laughed at the phrase on the sticker. Personally, I don't get it. I mean, come on, it's a fake bear. It doesn't eat. It doesn't drink. It doesn't even have a real home, it lives in a box. Adults... I can't figure them out.

Now even though the guests didn't go all out with the Teddy Bear theme, my parents sure did. There's cut-out shower decorations of trees, forest rangers, honey pots, bear caves, and a humungous Teddy Bear guarding my crib. My mom even went so far as to put fake Teddy Bear ears on me, but the plastic head thing that held the ears up starting making indentations on my scalp so the idea was scrapped.

Whoa, uh-oh. Someone's moving my crib. It's this older lady with blue hair and she's really needs to take a lesson in not giving the baby whiplash. Okay, so now I'm in the center of the room, but I can't figure out why. The crazy crib driver is yelling out something about baby shower "icebreakers." Suddenly all of my mom's friends are taking out stuffed animals from their pocketbooks and backpacks. Man, those are some old looking stuffed animals and they all look like they could use a good baby bath.

Okay, I'm beginning to figure out this icebreaker thing. The women are sharing favorite stuffed animal stories and everybody is doing the "Ooo and Ahh" thing. It's a female bonding moment. Women have favorite stuffed animal stories; Guys have football. As fun as all the women are having, I'm beginning to think I really should have pushed for the Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy idea a lot harder.

Thankfully someone just interrupted to say it was Chow Time. I'm happy for a couple of reasons. One: I don't have to hear any more stories about Bobo, Bear-Bear, and Mr. Teddy. Two: I'm dying for a little Mother's Milk. As I suck up my usual three-quarters of a bottle, the baby shower partygoers are being treated to a variety of hors d'oeuvres and open-faced sandwiches. I wish I could tell you more about the food, but my experience is limited to breasts and plastic bottles. I can tell you that there were hot things on big silver trays that people dipped in multi-colored sauces using a pointy piece of wood... and there were other trays with miniature versions of what my dad has called "club sandwiches." I did notice one peculiar thing; there was no crust on any of the sandwiches. Aren't parents always telling kids to eat the crust? This is a conspiracy theory I will have to check into once I stop drooling.

Finally one of my mom's friends tells everyone it is time for a little baby shower fun and games. Another friend held up a huge poster of baby pictures of all the guests. The partygoers had to shout out who they thought matched up with each picture. Suddenly every woman was screaming and pointing and laughing. I'm not sure who won the game, but I definitely can tell you there were some uggo babies in the room.

My mom and her friends are starting to play another game, which is my cue to relax and... Zzzzzzz.

Okay, I'm back. All rested and ready to go. And not a moment too soon because the ladies are piling up the gifts in front of me. Yes! It is baby shower gift time. And look at the wrapping jobs. Very nice bow over there. Love how they tied the ribbon on that one. Okay, Mom, cut the chit-chat. Time to rip open the packages and check out the baby booty.

First gift: Spiderman pj's with feetsies. Cute, but not a toy. Second gift: Baby overalls. Still no toy. Third gift: Portable crib. Hmmm, like the idea that I'm going to be getting out of the house, but STILL NOT A TOY. I'm beginning to wonder if somewhere on the baby shower invitation it said: "No toys. Practical gifts only."

Well, that sucks all the fun out of the party for me. I mean, it is supposed to be my day and I think I do deserve some attention. Hey, wait a minute, I've got a built-in attention getting mechanism... "Waaaaaa. Waaaaaaa. Waaaaaa!"

Here they come. Works like a charm every time.