Does not play well with others
Sunday, April 2:
A good friend who is also going to the baby shower today suggests we meet for brunch and then head to the shower together. Great idea! We are hoping the shower won’t be four hours long, as shown by the invitation. There's just so much to do.
After arriving and waiting for more than an hour doing not much more than talking with the other guests, however, my friend says to me, “I think we’re going to be here for the entire four hours.”
It’s the daylight savings time change, see, and the hostess doesn’t want to get started just in case some of the guests who haven’t arrived yet have forgotten to turn their clocks ahead one hour.
Hmm, what would Miss Manners say?
Anyway, my friend the mother-to-be looks great, and it’s fun to meet her other friends. We are roughly 50/50 “old” and “young,” and for a while, it looks as though the older women and younger women are going to keep to their respective conversation groups. Interesting social dynamic.
Even though it’s her shower, my friend is kind enough to ask me how I feel and to consider my possible pregnant needs. Her friends at the shower tell me, “You don’t even look pregnant,” which I have been told by the pregnancy books I’m reading to believe is a lie. But that’s OK. Most of the people in the house have been there, done that. And I suppose it doesn’t matter if I look pregnant, anyway, because I am pregnant.
(“You throw like a girl!” “Well, good, because I am a girl.”)
We eat and play games.
Wait. I should mention I don’t play well with others. When it comes to shower games, I am waaaaaaaay too competitive. I mean, I make a fool out of myself.
Today turns out to be no exception. When I don’t win one particular game, I point out my wonderful performance to the hostess, who offers me to take a gift bag.
Then I gulp. What an idiot I am! I knew it! “Oh, no,” I say, “That’s OK.” I already won one gift bag.
There is another game I still think I should have won, or at least tied with the eventual winner, but I struggle not to say anything.
As penance, I try to lose the last game on purpose to the advantage of the friend I came with. That way, she can go home with a gift bag, too. Besides, seeing as the game was tied among three of us women at the time, it was better for one of us to emerge a clear winner.
Truly, I think about these things too much.
When it comes time for my other friend to give me a baby shower, I will insist she not let me play any games.
The good friend I came with is right, and we are there through the gift opening, photo taking and cake eating -- all four hours of it. But it’s nice to see my expectant friend revel in her special pre-baby time among friends.
A good friend who is also going to the baby shower today suggests we meet for brunch and then head to the shower together. Great idea! We are hoping the shower won’t be four hours long, as shown by the invitation. There's just so much to do.
After arriving and waiting for more than an hour doing not much more than talking with the other guests, however, my friend says to me, “I think we’re going to be here for the entire four hours.”
It’s the daylight savings time change, see, and the hostess doesn’t want to get started just in case some of the guests who haven’t arrived yet have forgotten to turn their clocks ahead one hour.
Hmm, what would Miss Manners say?
Anyway, my friend the mother-to-be looks great, and it’s fun to meet her other friends. We are roughly 50/50 “old” and “young,” and for a while, it looks as though the older women and younger women are going to keep to their respective conversation groups. Interesting social dynamic.
Even though it’s her shower, my friend is kind enough to ask me how I feel and to consider my possible pregnant needs. Her friends at the shower tell me, “You don’t even look pregnant,” which I have been told by the pregnancy books I’m reading to believe is a lie. But that’s OK. Most of the people in the house have been there, done that. And I suppose it doesn’t matter if I look pregnant, anyway, because I am pregnant.
(“You throw like a girl!” “Well, good, because I am a girl.”)
We eat and play games.
Wait. I should mention I don’t play well with others. When it comes to shower games, I am waaaaaaaay too competitive. I mean, I make a fool out of myself.
Today turns out to be no exception. When I don’t win one particular game, I point out my wonderful performance to the hostess, who offers me to take a gift bag.
Then I gulp. What an idiot I am! I knew it! “Oh, no,” I say, “That’s OK.” I already won one gift bag.
There is another game I still think I should have won, or at least tied with the eventual winner, but I struggle not to say anything.
As penance, I try to lose the last game on purpose to the advantage of the friend I came with. That way, she can go home with a gift bag, too. Besides, seeing as the game was tied among three of us women at the time, it was better for one of us to emerge a clear winner.
Truly, I think about these things too much.
When it comes time for my other friend to give me a baby shower, I will insist she not let me play any games.
The good friend I came with is right, and we are there through the gift opening, photo taking and cake eating -- all four hours of it. But it’s nice to see my expectant friend revel in her special pre-baby time among friends.
posted by Damselfly at 4:20 PM
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