Weather Report: 100% Chance of Baby Showers

Baby showers are intolerable, especially ones that take place at work. At-work baby showers are nothing but a form of extortion in which you are forced to give up at least ten dollars to "pitch in" for a gift, as well as forgo your lunch hour. If you are a woman, you are essentially obligated to attend, because the idea is to pack as many ovaries into a room as the fire department will allow. A woman who does not attend is considered a traitor to the sex and a Fallopian fink. She is shunned until her pheromones put her in sync with everyone else's menstrual cycle (woe to the woman who has had a hysterectomy). Men are fortunate enough to receive a reprieve, because the fire department criterion for male attendance at baby showers is based on sperm count and not gonad multiplicatives. This means that the only man who can attend is that guy who always uses his Powerbook on his lap.

For those of you who have been fortunate enough not to attend one of these estrogen exercises, the at-work baby shower usually follows this pattern: Everyone gathers in the conference room, and at the hour of the guest-of-honor's expected arrival, everyone is excitedly shushed by the woman who organized it, who is still feeling somewhat resentful that you forgot to bring the paper cups. At this point, all of the attendees squirm in excitement and resemble seven-year-olds who have to pee. Meanwhile, a co-conspirator enjoins the pregnant woman to take place in a lunchtime "emergency meeting," and escorts her to the room. When she opens the door, everyone shouts "surprise!" and the mother-to-be clutches her hand to her chest and pretends to be astonished, when really she was accidentally included on the mass e-mail that announced the surprise shower. After this, a group of otherwise intelligent women are reduced to cooing over little fleece jumpers and dissolving into girlish giggles as the mother unwraps a breast pump. Then they make her wear a funny hat and everyone eats cake.

The thing is, a major reason I don't like attending these things is that I hate newborn babies. They are nothing to celebrate. Neonates are inevitably repulsive creatures of indeterminate sex. However, one is expected to fuss admiringly over it while thinking of an excuse to escape to the next grocery store aisle. Besides smelling of sour milk and latrine, babies are sticky. Even if there is none within a five-mile radius, the child always seems to be covered in jam. All babies should be loaded into cannons and shot into the sea. I would definitely pitch in ten bucks to see that.