Amy After The Fact: We had a moo-velous time cele-bray-ting Marissa

Planning for our colleague, Marissa's, baby shower began months ago...

"...but I'm in the hospital," Katriel complained as I texted her tentative ideas over the summer.

"Then you have plenty of time to plan," I answered pragmatically.

Our farm theme, borrowed from Marissa's extensive background in agriculture, yielded a ton of cute craft and culinary choices. The problem was narrowing it down to a reasonable number.

"No," corrected Katriel (who has gotten quite sassy lately, by the way), "The problem was getting AMY to agree to a reasonable number." (See? Sassy.)

"I don't think we need EVERY farm animal known to man," Katriel said carefully as she calculated the costs of my critter cupcakes. "If we're going to do this," I lectured, "we're going whole hog." Katriel began the difficult-to-impossible work of turning my ridiculous dream into a reality. Walking on eggshells, she proposed frugal changes. "We can't use piping for the eyes," I shrieked, outraged at the very idea. "They MAKE candy decorator eyeballs!"

So, after Katriel spent half of this year's celery on jelly beans, colored tootsie rolls, candy corn, Necco wafers and decorator eye balls, we learned that I was going to have to travel out-of-town the week-end before the baby shower. "I'm taking the Red-Eye," I assured Katriel, "I'll be to you Sunday afternoon."

Katriel is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Amy? Out-of-town? Perfect. She had everything done before I had even crossed back into our time zone. My only job was plates and napkins. Which, of course, I had forgotten. No worries. We'll just stop in at Party City on the way to the airport. I wasn't allowed a checked bag so I just stuffed it into my already-stuffed backpack, removing a sweatshirt and two Ts which I hurriedly put on and breezed through TSA like I was crossing into Switzerland.

School ended and my team hurriedly set up the library for our shower.

I marveled at the spread. Burlap table runners accented with simple flowers and antique tractor toys. A watermelon carved into the shape of a pig. "Square morsels?" I complained as Katriel wrestled the feet on. "You couldn't have melon-balled it?" She must not have herd me because she didn't respond.

I looked upon the buffet of farm-related yumminess with, first, delight, and then, embarrassment. A lot of time, energy, and creative talent had gone into these treats. I had (barely) purchased the paper plates.

"But they were imported," my friend, Dee said, reassuring me. "Those plates traveled 3,000 miles to get here!"

Thank you, Dee.

"What plates?" my new (and now former) friend, Cassidy asked, "I didn't notice them."

That girl really gets my goat.

The shower was over in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

"Well," I sighed, slumping in my chair as I watched as everyone cleaned up, "We did it."

Katriel, her arms full, paused at the door, "We sure did."

On her third trip through, she spoke to me, somewhat cryptically. "You know," she said, wrestling a baby seat bottom, bottle warmer, and a crib liner into her arms like cord wood. I helpfully added a package of adorable baby socks to the top of her precarious pie like the proverbial cherry, "One should really make hay while the sun shines."

Laying my head on my arms at the table, I considered these weird words. Was she quoting a fortune cookie? Why didn't she ask me if I wanted some Chinese food? Rude.

Then it hit me. Startled, I sat up.

Was she implying that I was lazy?

How dare she! Why on earth would she be mad?

It's not like I did anything.

"Look at the cute camel!" our
friend Val exclaimed, admiring
what was CLEARLY a horse
cupcake. Later, she tried
defending her unforgivable faux pas:
"Not a camel, Amy, I said giraffe."
Yeah. Like that makes it better.