I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. The reason? I was backed into a small (unpleasant) corner & had no choice but to not only go to a baby shower...but actually ended up helping to plan this one as well.

The thing is...I truly hate showers of any kind. Please tell me how four hours of ooooh-ing & aaaa-ing at someone else opening presents in the midst of a room full of women only...can possibly be anything but torturous ag-on-ny.

The shower was for my cousin...who I love more than words. That’s why I was there...that & the fact that my psycho mother pulled out her bag of guilt (she’s got a bag of tricks too...but she’s saving that for another day).

First came the arguing...who wanted to sit near who (whom?). So, I asked the waitress to refill the wine glasses every ten minutes (& keep it flowing). That worked to keep the peace until present time. Then the chair shifting started as everyone jockeyed for a perfect view of the loot. At this point I would have happily snuck off & visited the bar...but Mom had seen my rudeness before & would have none of it...she gave me the look that said she’d be DISAPPOINTED in my moral fiber if I pulled that shit (my word, not hers...never hers).

So, I stayed & ENDURED. Aunt Maggie knit the most darling baby blanket & cousin Marie dug deep for a Tiffany spoon. What do YOU resort to as a defense mechanism against such inhuman torture? Me? My mind turned to the sweet sex I’d rather be having...but when all that squirming in my chair started earning stares I thought I’d better stop immediately.

I turned to the women who were sitting by me & asked who they thought would win The Heisman (total change from the sex that was on my mind...drastic times call for...well...you know). They looked at me like I didn’t belong there.

Yep...that’s certainly what I thought.