I kept trying to play the stare game. He looked scared. Now I know he probably was. The third time ever that I met Mr. Husband was at another party that I helped plan. We have a good track record. As our relationship picked up warp speed from the beginning, it has been one party after another. The pinnacle, of course, was our wedding party that we spent almost a year planning together, keeping our guests in mind as the main beneficiaries (other than us, the lucky couple). Mr. Husband supports me in all things. He is always eager to ride shotgun for another party planning. And when it’s time to get the show on the road with cooking, decorating, and other last minute details—Mr. Husband is right there next to me asking what he can do next to help. There is a good reason he wears the shiny moniker of “Super.”
Next weekend is the Yacoub baby shower. Nader and Hind. Nader was my bestie for years and years. Then we had to grow up and start being adults. He found Hind, and I found Mr. Husband. Nader and Hind were not trying to get pregnant. Lucky buggars got pregnant by accident. Oops! That is so romantic.
She is due to give birth to a bouncing baby boy on July 1st. We will toast them wildly on May 30th. Debbie and I have been stuck in the trenches with relentless planning for weeks and weeks. We’re down to the wire, which is my favorite place to be. This is a different kind of shower. It’s a couples shower because it’s so much more fun to involve the husband. And any shower I help plan is simply an occasion for the entire group to get together. Bring one, bring two, bring all. Just bring it. And let us eat cake! Not only is this a couples shower but it is also a kid shower. Everyone but us has kids in our group of friends, so the kids come first. There will be a moonwalk in the backyard, squirt guns for the kids, and other special activities for the kids. Kids! Kids! Kids! It is an event where the parents and kids can hang out and party in the guise of a baby shower. Of course, Nader and Hind are important, too.
Debbie arranged for a gang of girls to get together to make the centerpiece of the shower: a diaper cake. There is no cake in a diaper cake and you cannot eat it. Well, you can, but it’s, like, plastic and other diaper stuff. Ew. Anyhow, we got together and drank margaritas and rolled diapers up to make an architecturally sound cake-looking contraption. Kari Whitaker came with what must have been at least twelve years experience of diaper rolling and diaper caking. She led the diaper rolling initiative as Debbie shared her vision and inspired the troops.
Kelly Ray helped solve the age-old question about ribbon (to ribbon or not to ribbon) and helped decide upon other accruements for the final touches. And what did I do? Instead of adding another cook to the kitchen for the diaper cake creation extravaganza, I focused on the most important part of the baby shower: signage.
Sure, sure, sure—the diaper cake might be beautiful to look at and serve a greater purpose down the line in actually evolving into usable diapers, but signage is timeless. Signage is helpful. Signage rules the world. I love signage. I took a few photos of incredibly helpful signage while in Germany the other month. I kid you not, signage will save the world. I cannot stress the importance of accurate signage.
May the death of all ages come upon us—but let us at least have proper signage to tell us where to go and what to do. The third hostess, cousin Kelley, suggested that we offer a make-a-onesie table. Ah, the onesie: the gift that keeps on giving after wash after wash after wash after spit-up. The little t-shirt, body-suit, baby armor that all newborns are not complete without wearing daily. This simple piece of clothing is a baby staple. New York fashion week devotes an entire stage for babies to waddle down in the year’s hottest onesies. They are big. They are actually small, very tiny, but they are essential. And, apparently, you need a lot of them. That’s big. So we’ll have this table filled with naked little onesies where guests can splash some of their very own art upon to make them fashionable.
This definitely calls for a sign! Yes, and so it does and so I did. I made the best darn little sign in the world. I dedicated hours to making the world’s most wonderful sign so that guests will know what they’re supposed to do. A signage of the times, a signage for all. While Debs, Kari, and Kelly devoted all their craft skills to the diaper cake assembly, I sat at the table and carefully constructed my sign. I talked a little. Maybe I talked a lot. Yes, I talked a lot. I drank a margarita. I talked some more.
I realized that I misspelled the most important word in my sign: onesie. I forgot the first “e.” Frak. Think quick. This can be fixed. Ah, yes, add an “f” to the
beginning. Yes! While this small edit changes the entire meaning of the sign, the sign is not only saved but also super cool. You know, like Happy Days cool. Perfect. And so the guests are now going to make a fonsie. Sweet. Good signage is just so very important. Mr. Husband fully approves this message.
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