I was browsing for birthday cards inside a party supply store yesterday and I overheard a lady ask the salesperson: “Do you have any of those blue and white ribbons that I can use for a baby shower?”
“Yes we do, but I’m afraid they’re blank; we’re out of the ones that say ‘Baby Shower’ on them.”
“Ohhhhh. This is terrible. I’ve been to four stores and everyone’s out of them!”
I applaud this woman’s perspicacity. It is absolutely crucial that the blue and white ribbons at a baby shower actually say “Baby Shower” on them. Using blank ribbons could be disastrous. Why, if I had a nickel for every time I’d been at a baby shower and the lack of appropriate signage caused everyone to wander around, Memento-like, after the first few minutes:
“I feel so woozy. Why are we here? What are we celebrating?”
“I don’t remember either, but I seem to be holding a giftwrapped bag of diapers. Perhaps we’re celebrating someone’s birthday? Someone’s 100th birthday?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m towing a plastic wheelbarrow with a big ribbon on it. Clearly we came here to help someone with their barn raising.”
mock the ribbon all you want mister. but 18 years from now, when that kid is in therapy, it will all come down to this. to the sad, sad fact that no one cared enough to get the proper signage for his only baby shower. kids sense these things. even when they’re in the womb. what do you think all that kicking is about? it’s not cuz they’re stretching their legs i’ll tell you that much.
it’s true.
dr. spock wrote volumes about it.
oddly, though, his findings are published in the last chapter of the atlas.
that woman from the store is probably more child-rearing AND geography savvy than you’ll ever be.
Yes, yes, what both Patricia and Sandy have said hold true, young Howard.
You underestimate the importance of labels at parties to your severe and everlasting detriment. Why, I myself have lost count of the number of times I wished that every function I ever attended required the name and purpose of that function to appear prominently above the room in which we were all gathered. Perhaps then I would stop jumping into other people’s coffins, tossing babies out of moving vehicles, and attempting to console newlyweds individually in small unmarked rooms in the rear, with occasional bouts of success.
All this stems from my mother wandering in and out of social gatherings with no idea as to their purpose or title whilst pregnant with yours truly. I kicked and kicked, but she meandered on regardless.
As it stands, my reign of unknown party terror continues, and will do so as long as I draw breath.
Good thing I decided to take up drinking heavily and posting on line, eh? Beats wearing a Sylvester outfit in front of the Copley Plaza anyway.
P.S. I was the drunkard who inquired as to your gender, Sylvester, lo those many years ago. I feel that I can now confess this in confidence, online, with the safety that comes from the anonymity of . . . oh, wait a minute, that’s my e-mail, isn’t it?
Crap.
You’re a funny man, and you always make me giggle. But really, I just think the old gal needed someone to guide her.
She’s apparently lacking in imagination, so why couldn’t the salesperson suggest the blank ribbons and a silver fabric/glitter/puffy pen or two? Hmm?
Seriously, I almost interjected and suggested something like that, since the salesperson was obviously mentally deficient. But this would have completely violated my “No Butting Into Other People’s Business before Noon on Sunday with Only Two Cups of Coffee.” So I allowed this small business to edge yet another step closer into financial ruin.
dude, if anybody in the history of getting stabbed needed a stabbin’ worse than that lady, i have yet to hear it. you should’ve done the universe a favor and shivved her with the holiday letter openers over by the counter. I AM SERIOUS HERE.
You’re a brilliant motherfucker, Greg Howard.
Isn’t it weird that there are signs stating the obvious for things like baby showers, but not for, say, divorce hearings? How about a big black ribbon that says ‘Free At Last’ in a divorce lawyer’s office.
i wouldn’t go to four stores to find a box of condoms if angelina jolie was waiting for me buck naked and cool whip in hand back in my bedroom at home.
oh who am i kidding. i got a special box of rubbers under the bed for just that opportunity.