People do not invite me to baby showers… with good reason. I am not a “baby person.” I’m also not fond of toddlers, children, tweens, or teens. I have never understood why expecting mothers feel the urge to show me ultrasound pictures. I have learned that exclaiming “Oh wow, the missing link! Call Ancient Aliens!” does not win me brownie points.
Ultrasounds come in two forms: I can’t find it and It’s an alien. Neither observation is correct, you’re supposed to lie and tell the shower how cute it is.
Recently, I was shown an ultrasound by someone who knows me well. So, when I played “spin the ultrasound” trying to find it, she helped me. When I did finally see it, I said “wow, you’re having an alien.” But then I looked at it a little longer and realized, she wasn’t having just any alien, she was having Stitch (from Lilo & Stitch). It looked just like Experiment 626.
And I told her that. So, I have officially nicknamed it Stitch and she’s fine with it. Last week, she gave me an invitation to her baby shower, adding that I did not have to come if I didn’t want to, because she knows how I feel about babies, baby shower games, and people who randomly rub pregnant women’s swollen bellies or coo at them.
Chances are good I won’t attend, but I will still send a gift. I spent several days shopping and finally found the perfect gift from me. I also found a “non-gift” and my darling cousin was nice enough to agree to cross stitch Stitch onto a baby bib for me.
And no, it’s not diapers… I realize how necessary and expensive those are and that mothers love getting them… but I just can’t bring myself to give something so impersonal.