Roadworks…I blow my nose at you!
1 Nov
The time: Saturday afternoon. 12:27 P.M.
The setting: The city centre
The mood: Beside myself with fucked offness!
I was already late for the most boring baby shower ever to exist – I’ll go into this in a bit – since I had to decipher the directions a friend sent through. Of course being late, I’m putting my pedal through the floor of my car, smoking furiously and bashing my steering wheel every time someone didn’t pull off from a robot after it had been green for a New York second.
Then…wonderfulness of Cape Town. Oh bugger.
Some utter fucking pillock completely failed to realise how much traffic passes through the city centre on a Saturday and decided that this was the best possible time to schedule roadworks. Roadworks that involved funneling four lanes of traffic into two lanes.
FUCK.
I sat there for twenty minutes…just sitting…watching snails have an quiet afternoon stroll, waving as they went by. I think it was waving. They might have been laughing and giving me the finger.
All in all, it sucked ass. Especially since I didn’t want to put on my air con – trying to conserve as much petrol as possible you know.
I should have conserved petrol by not going to this god awful thing.
I have two questions…a) Why do people assume that because someone has a uterus, I should give a fuck about these squirming noisy thing called babies? and b) Why don’t men have to go through this pain? Isn’t childbirth enough for women?
Shopping for baby shower presents I am totally fine with. I just pick the item that looks like the cute fairy crapped it out and it is her pride and joy.
It’s the actual showers.
Do you realise how bored I get getting talked to about babies for 3 – 4 hours everytime I have to go to one of these things? (I say talked to because I never actually say anything back for fear of causing offense…people don’t like to hear that their babies are ugly).
And then, at ninety percent of these events, someone decided that because it’s in honour of a pregnant woman, there should be no alcohol anywhere within a fifty kilometre radius. I don’t want much. Just a glass of wine to take the edge off.
And then…there’s the games. Oh dear lord the games. Let’s dress a fully grown woman up in a nappy and then make her guess what her present is because of a stupid riddle written on the card. Do you realise how much longer this makes a baby shower?
I have a brilliant solution for people like me.
1. Let us give you your present, you open it and I can get the fuck out before one of your random baby happy relatives starts asking me when I’m going to start breeding.
or
2. Make people bring the baby presents but make the baby shower an actual party. With fun. Not tea, snacks and guessing games.
or
3. Make men go to these blasted things too. Maybe there will be some conversation about things other than how many babies Susan wants or how well Daisy’s little precious boy is coming along…his lisp is nearly completely gone and the reconstructive surgery will get rid of all the deformities that inbreeding caused.
Really, I just want them to feel my pain too.
I’m just saying.
Oh. And when I finally escaped this Goblin nightmare…the roadworks were still going on and I had to wait another twenty minutes. It was probably the best part of my day after what I’d just endured.
Never ever again will I go to a baby shower. I’m sending my presents with someone from now on.
Related posts:
Oh goodness… and I thought that I had a shit day… I feel a whoooole lot better now, thank you!
I dont really get invited to these things anymore because I am too old and I dont hold other peoples babies..
But the one or two i have been too.. i take my own poison and openly mock the pregnant lady..
You would be surprised what can be got away with if people think your nuts…
HoTs – I’m so happy I could help
B – Yeah, I just stare at the babies with this look that says “what the hell is the big deal about you?”
They then find me terribly funny. Babies mock me.
But yeah, if I’m ever forced to go again…a bottle is going with me. I’ll even drink my wine out of a baby bottle if it makes people happier.
More traffic passes through the city centre on a weekday. But then, I guess it doesn’t involve you, so that doesn’t really help.
Meh – it’s a baby shower. Believe it or not, you’re going to enjoy yours one day.
Stop snorting at me. You know it’s true.
6k – Of course the preggers one enjoys it. She’s getting tons of free shit.
I swear to god though, if I ever breed…pfft…it’s going to be made a party…with no retarded games.
I want an invite to this..
P.S. I will be bringing my own booze.. just in case …
Remember though, that you won’t be the one organising it.
Yes but if the person who organises this theoretical baby shower doesn’t know what I don’t want…then wtf are they doing organising it?
Ah ha!
Actually…my mother might just make it the most boring (according to me) thing on earth just to spite me.
oy… i feel your pain…