Ablutophobia

For those of you not in the know, ablutophobia is the fear of showers. And I've realized I have it. Big-time.

I've been to a number of these events, of both the wedding and the baby variety, most recently this weekend. And while I fully applaud the bride or mother-to-be's prerogative to celebrate in any way she deems fit, the thought of having one myself sends me into bouts of cold terror.

I avoided it for the wedding, but let's face it: if you don't have a shower for your kid, you're buying all those onesies and bouncies and sippy cups yourself. And there are a lot of sippy cups to buy. So motivated (though shamefully) by greed, I've agreed to celebrate She-Blob's impending arrival.

However, I've come up with a few helpful guidelines to making this happen in a manner that won't send me screaming into the appropriately-timed, mid-afternoon sun.

1. It needs to be co-ed. Ever since Junior High, when I experienced my first party with boys, I've realized there's no going back. If there aren't boys there, I'm not coming.

2. The word "shower" is NOT to be used. I hear "shower" and I cringe. Guys hear "shower" and breath a sigh of relief. Shower = the chick goes, and the guy stays home, says his prayers of gratitude and watches the game. To be helpful, Bree and I have come up with some alternate names to put on the invitation. The front runners are currently "Pop Goes the Weasel" or "Want a Beer? Then Bring the Kid a Gift Party."

3. Speaking of beer - there must be alcohol. Now before you decide I'm a complete lush, I'm looking out for my guests here. No matter what we call this thing, everyone knows its really just a shower. And since the men are already angry that their significant others are gleefully dragging them with, it would add insult to injury to then offer up iced tea and diet coke. Hell, after most showers I want a drink myself...

4. There will be NO GAMES. This is non-negotiable. If anyone comes near me and attempts to measure ANYTHING, I cannot guarantee the outcome. Same goes for guessing weights of things, sizes of things, names of things, fun surveys and questionnaires, and, most importantly, no timed baby-related relay races.

5. I will not be opening my presents in front of you. It's not that I'm not extremely thankful, but even as a kid, it seemed very strange to me to be forced to watch the birthday kid opening up all their loot. It led to jealousy and ill will. I promise, I will open, appreciate, and send you a lovely card for your gift. Just not in front of a crowd of people oohhing and ahhhing at the appropriate moments.

6. I'm all about decorations, but there's absolutely no need to expend energy on tying little pink baby bottles, shoes, or outfits to any flat surface. Seriously. I'm trying to save everyone some time here.

7. My dog's invited. He's part of the family. He doesn't even had to bring a gift. That said, he doesn't get any beer.

My best friends, Jessica and Kate have generously stepped up and offered to organize and host this event, which leaves me feeling simultaneously grateful and apprehensive. What kind of ingrate would I be to tell them that the thought of throwing a traditional baby shower makes me slightly queasy? The best I can do is hope they're not too offended at my control-freak insistence that the rules be met.

Image by tanakowa