I’ve always tried to avoid new
grandparents. They are so obnoxious, flipping picture after picture in your
face, whether you pretend to be interested or not. Here’s my grandbaby in the
hospital the day she was born. Here she is in my lap. Here she is going out for
a walk in the stroller for the first time. Here she is getting her bath. Here
she is passing gas. It just goes on and on. Every topic of conversation comes
around to something related to their grandchild. There is simply nothing in the
entire universe that could be more interesting to them. Washington, D.C. could
be under attack and they would show you a picture of their grandson’s first tooth.
Seriously. It makes me want to shout “Snap out of it!” like Cher as I smack them
across the face.
It wouldn’t do any good. There’s no way
to knock any sense into a new grandparent. These previously normal adults seem
to have been overtaken by aliens, like in The
Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And
the thing is… they are actually happy about it. Happier than I’ve ever seen them
before.
Although I’ve longed for a grandchild
for a long time, I always figured that if and when my time ever came, I would
be able to rise above all this foolishness and keep my wits about me. Now I’m
fearing I was as wrong about that as I’ve been wrong about anything. (And I’ve been wrong about a lot of things in
my life.)
My daughter Gretchen just entered into
the final trimester of her pregnancy and I don’t know if I’m going to make it
the full nine months. I find myself crying at least once a day just thinking
about the little man who is preparing to make his grand entrance. I want him to
be born NOW. And I want him in my arms. It’s pert near making me crazy.
A couple months ago I slid off the edge of sanity and into the deep end. It all started when I learned the gender. I really had
my heart set on a girl and when I heard it was a boy it took me a while to get
over it. For years I had wandered through the baby departments in stores, looking
at all the cute little girl outfits, imagining what it would be like to have
a granddaughter. Well, I was getting used to the idea that it was a boy and happened
to be near Buy Buy Baby (which I discovered by consulting my phone and driving
about 10 miles). So since I was there
anyway, I thought I’d just stop in to see what they have for baby boys these
days. Oh, my gosh! They had cute stuff for boys! I wasn’t sure if they’d have
anything cute in any other stores, so I bought every cute baby-boy thing they
had.
Then, I found myself in other stores,
just walking through to see what they had. And I have discovered two things. First, every store has cute things for boys! And second, I know now, beyond a doubt, that
it’s simply impossible for me to put my big toe in the infant department of a
clothing store without buying something. I keep testing that theory out, and
despite my best efforts to disprove it, it holds true every time. I have never
been a compulsive spender in my life and have always known how to exercise
restraint. What has happened to me?
Last week I was at Macy’s picking up
some new pants for myself. I was determined to stay out of the baby department.
But when there was a line at the dressing rooms and the saleswoman told me
there were more dressing rooms in the children’s department, I didn’t even stop
to think about it. I don’t need to tell you what happened.
So, I’ve decided I can’t go into stores
for a while. But then today I started poking around on the internet. I
researched the 10 best toys for babies and started a list. And that took me
to a Carters discount site, which took me to Oshkosh overalls. They were on
sale, dammit. How could I resist? I bought some with the stripes. And I
thought, wouldn’t it be cute to get him a railroad cap to go with the overalls. So, then
I started looking at baby’s hats. And I found a newborn baby’s cap that I can
have “Nicholas” embroidered on. All the while I’m typing in my credit card
number I’m thinking, I have to stop this. But I honestly don’t think I can.
The real problem is that the baby isn’t
even here yet and I’m already out of control. I’m seriously
wondering if there is a twelve-step group for people like me.
For those of you
who will be interacting with me over the next few months, please forgive me.
And be forewarned; I haven’t even entered the obnoxious new grandparent stage
yet. Lord, have mercy! If you ever wanna smack me in the face, you have my permission.
