it was hosted in tyler on saturday 4/8 by the mother of my childhood best friend and current friend of my parents (kathy). it was co-hosted by my childhood best friend (leigh ann - who i’ve seen maybe once or twice in the last decade and made the mistake of not attending her baby shower a couple of years ago) as well as the wife of the brother of my childhood best friend (carolyn - who i had never met).
slap on the fact that i loathe being the center of attention, that i was going to see a myriad of people i hadn’t seen or had barely seen in 15 years as well as people i had never met or barely ever heard of as well as my dour geometry teacher from the 10th grade, you’ll see i was sitting in a pressure cooker.
as this was the “traditional” shower, brian refused to attend with me and left me to suffer alone. he was only willing to come as far as tyler and my parents’ home. when i would push, he would whine how he should stay home to paint the baby’s room. to make it easier on him, i told him he should come to tyler to help my father strip and re-stain the family rocking chair we are adopting. sucker. of course, after hearing what was involved with stripping and re-staining, all of a sudden re-painting didn’t sound so bad and brian was totally off the hook. fucker.
instead of arriving the friday night prior, we stayed in dallas to purloin a bit more time in shower denial and to attend the 30th birthday gathering of brian’s friend april at a swanky place called Standard. someone with a lot of money provided drinks and appetizers presented on trays by actual employees, so brian and i really loaded up on the shirley temples before saying our good-bye’s and letting april rub and rub and rub on my belly. i think brian preferred april’s birthday last year where we all got hammered in gaytown and the ladies danced with each other. but oliver insisted on getting in the middle of things this year and made the groping seem a lot more tame.
so with no other welcome obstacles in our way, we were off to tyler the following morning. i left benedict arnold at the house playing basketball with my nephew and arrived for the shindig.
it was kind of one of those hit and run affairs (like a southern wedding), so it went relatively quickly. the three hostesses were like a well-oiled machine and helped push me through another unbelievable mountain of gifts. they were brought to me wrapped. they were taken away from me unwrapped. my sister wrote it down before i could even figure out what i was holding. leigh ann made me re-pose for photos i was inevitably ruining because i have a tendency to make weird faces with my rubbery visage.
then they fed me cake made by carolyn fashioned to look like the invitation, fruit from a watermelon fashioned by leigh ann to look like a pram, and cookies fashioned by a mysterious cookie-maker fashioned to look like good-eatin’.
and then, like a parade, everyone was back out the door before i had even swallowed the last tidbit on my plate.
it actually turned out pretty well. but don’t tell brian i told you.
after rolling about in our windfall back at the ranch, brian and i said good-bye to my parents as they left for the evening. then brian acted all like he wanted to get down and i was all like “that’s grody we’re at my parents’ house” and then my mom came back because she had forgotten something and acted like she was walking in on something and then she left again and i was all like “you would’ve been totally busted!” and brian was all like “but she’s not going to forget something twice” and then i got really quiet and said we needed to get going to my sister’s.
to my sister’s we went where i was almost run off a tiny 20mph country road leading into their subdivision so that we could introduce brian to the norwegian buttered potato-onion dumpling known as clob. he was unimpressed (as most novices are) and lisa and i absorbed his share. into our thighs and asses. that sounds really disgusting. because it is.
we were quickly laden with carbs, so we all crashed in the living room watching ... lord, what were we watching? i know it was some sort of disney-pixar number. oh yeah... chicken little. then we ate ... lord, what did we eat? i know it was some sort of fruity-cakey thing. oh yeah... raspberry cobbler. maybe.
sunday was spent dining with parents and sister at brian’s maiden voyage to el charro. he seemed to handle it better than the clob. then we went home and rolled about in all our loot.
the baluseks score some more sentimentality points by giving us a hansel and gretel music box that my great aunt june purchased in germany probably in the 60’s or 70’s. i’ve been instructed to not thank aunt june as she is living in a nursing home in fargo with alzheimer’s and will likely be confused as to why i now have her music box.
gratuitous belly photo
here is another montage of a smattering of shower gifts: