Baby shower "blues:" It's not my party but I'll cry and whine if I want to

Throwing a baby shower seemed like a relatively simple and low-key process, especially when the center-of-attention detests games, prefers guacamole and gets perturbed by animal themed-anything. "I can't go wrong," I thought gleefully but to make sure, a shower committee quickly formed around me. Kelly interrupted our Friday afternoon euchre game to devise a to-do list. "But there's nothing "to-do," I protested, eyeing the up-turned club while scanning my very red hand of cards. "We have to determine what everyone is bringing," she insisted, tapping her pencil. Thinking fast, I realized that this situation could be very advantageous to me so I quickly assigned all my favorite party foods. "I could go shopping for the group gift tonight," Amanda offered, sighing as I inadvertently sucked the left bauer from her hand with my first play. "We're just going to get her a gift card," I told her and then told her again when she called me hours later from Babies-backwards R-Us to describe, in detail, the fifty baby-laying-on-his-back-swatting-at-hang-y-things things on display. This is exhausting, I thought to myself as I was burdened with the difficult task of ordering the cake. "What flavor do you want," my talented friend Wendy asked. I briefly considered bringing this matter to committee but decided to make an executive decision. "I like white cake," I declared, not pausing to wonder why Wendy furrowed her brow and shook her head in disgust as she walked away.

Our friend, Wendy Scott, makes AMAZING cakes!

I played chauffeur on the day of the party. "Do you know how to get there," my friend Cathy asked, wrestling her crock pot of the chicken wing dip that I'd ordered into my van. "I'll know it when I see it," I assured her, plopping a giant whale cake in her lap.  Cath became inexplicably exasperated as I slowly drove my van up and down the country road looking for our friend Pam's house. I ignored her as she tends to get a little cranky now and then ("Only when I'm with you," she snarled). "She has a pond," I said. "This house has a pond," Cathy pointed out. "No..." I replied. "What about that one," Cath said, pointing to another pond. "Noooo..." "That one?" "No."  "That one?" "No." "I knew I should have looked it up before we left," she finally shouted as I marveled over the seemingly miraculous number of ponds we'd seen. We finally found Pam who cheerfully jumped in the van and asked, "Do you know how to get there?" "I'll know it when I see it," I assured her while Cathy screamed in the front seat.

We arrived at the party site at our friend Amy's house practically on time. Amy had put up unauthorized baby shower decorations but I maturely decided to let it go as it seemed like bad form to pop all of her festive blue balloons. I grumpily observed her delicate glassware before asking, "Where are the cheap paper plates and cups?" "Oh...I thought this would make the occasion more

Notice the unauthorized blue balloon to the right of this picture.

special," she explained before distracting me with stuffed mushrooms and quiche. Sarah arrived and was quickly surrounded by loving friends, leaving me no opportunity to warn her that the low-key baby shower that she was expecting had veered into a Baby-zilla production of epic proportions complete with blue balloons and an animal-themed baby-laying-on-his-back-swatting-at-hang-y-things thing. Most of the shower conversation is not publishable and frankly, I wish that I hadn't been present for much of it as it had to do with disgusting body fluids. Fortunately, my go-to mechanism was close at hand as I drowned my sorrows in fruit salsa and blue punch.

The only party game we played was the unofficial version of "Guess the baby's weight by eating that equivalent in whale-shaped frosted cookies." Very fun, by the way. We wrestled the animal-themed baby-laying-on-his-back-swatting-at-hang-y-things thing in Sarah's car and began our trip home. Suddenly, a ding sounded in the darkness. "What was that," Cathy asked. "Nothing to worry about," I assured her, "but we should probably start looking for a gas station soon though." "I am never riding anywhere with you again," she vowed. "I know there's a station around here somewhere," I comforted, "I'll know it when I see it."