The Dysfunctional Baby Shower

November 2014

Tomorrow is the baby shower. I’m still debating driving down there, just picking up my daughter early from gymnastics and showing up. I figure even if the whore is there I have no reason to feel bad. I’m not a whore. I don’t send naked pictures to other women’s husbands. She’s the one that should feel bad, but let’s face it. She’s an immoral, selfish, manipulative little bitch and feeling embarrassed is the last thing she would feel. I’m sure she’d be quite satisfied with herself for being invited and attending, especially with everyone in the family fawning over her while I sat away from everyone.

I figure I could go, look fabulous and focus on the fact I’m going to support Zack’s niece, ignore the in-laws or give basic, no frills answers if they ask questions, eat cake, ooh and aaah over the gifts, and then head back to my hotel for the rest of the evening and take off Sunday afternoon. I can be cool but civil.

I doubt I’ll go. I’m not looking forward to seeing any of them and answering their fake questions of concern. I’m not looking forward to them acting like they give even a little bit of a shit about me, like I’m some important part of the family. Oh, how have you been? I’m so glad you could come. How’s life? Blah, blah, blah. I’m not looking forward to explaining to my daughter why I’m staying at a hotel instead of with her grandparents. I have no desire to interact with any of my in-laws and I’m not sure how that will go. Then I think about who I would sit with. It’s not like I’ll know anyone outside of the family. And my daughter will want to sit with her grandmother and then she’ll be asking why I’m not over there with her. It will end up being a total clusterfuck. I think it’s just better if I stay at home.

Present Day Sam Says: In the end, we didn’t go. When we went there for Christmas I brought along the baby gift. It was actually quite nice and quite expensive.

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