SHOPPING FOR THE FUTURE

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For someone who isn’t technically born, my child sure has a lot of stuff.

My wife and I decided that we were not going to buy lots and lots of stuff until the baby got here because, let’s face it – an unborn child is not likely to use a blankie.

Apparently, this sort of logic does not apply to expectant grandmothers. Thanks to our mothers, our child now has a wardrobe rivaling Cher (in volume, not style).

We are pretty sure that we are having a little girl. (I guess it goes without saying that the baby will be little, huh?) We’re not positive, as the doctors said that, in essence, nothing showed up on the radar, but we’re pretty sure. (Side note: I know a lot of people think you should wait until the baby is born to find out. My feeling is it will be a surprise at nine months or a surprise at six. Plus, I don’t do well with surprises. I still look for where my Christmas presents are hidden.)

Since it is assumed the baby is a girl, the grandmothers have been inundating us with little dresses. (If this child is a boy, hello, therapy!) She has a Christmas dress, a dress from Mexico, an Atlanta Braves dress (tied for first place in my book), a dress that says, "Daddy’s Girl" on it (tied with the Braves dress), and about 53,000 dresses for other occasions, ranging from Easter to St. Patrick’s Day to Wednesday. If you ever see my child wearing the same outfit, it will be amazing.

My wife is constantly coming up to me with a little tiny dress and saying, "Isn’t this SOOOO cute!!!" (I think my wife thinks we’re getting a doll. Boy is she gonna be surprised.) I just nod and say something like, "Awwwww." She thinks I’m expressing how cute the dress is. In reality, I’m thinking, "Awwwww – not more dresses! How many formal events does an infant attend?)

Actually, I’m fine with all of the dresses and outfits and stuff. For one thing, they don’t take up a lot of space. What really is going to be fun is when the baby furniture arrives. Apparently, companies that make baby furniture are shocked to learn that people are having kids, as it takes about two months to get a dresser and crib delivered. You know, you’d think the folks at Baby Furniture-a-Rama would realize that they’ve got a pretty steady market potential there and would keep things in stock.

When the furniture does arrive, it is that point that I am relegated to Mike, Worker Bee. I, along with a couple of unsuspecting friends who don’t know it yet, so don’t tell them, will have to (a) move everything out of the guest bedroom and over to my parents’ house (b) move everything out of my office and into what used to be the guest bedroom (c) assemble all of the baby furniture (d) paint the baby room, which used to be my office (e) put the baby furniture in the room (f) succumb to hormonal whims as my wife rearranges the room 200,000 times (g) attend child’s graduation from high school, because that is about where it falls on the projected timeline.

But it’s not just furniture we’re ordering, nossirree! We are also expanding into the exciting world of baby swings, stuffed animals, and blankets! Again, this is all fine with me because I don’t actually have to go shop for this stuff. Don’t get me wrong – I want to be involved with my child and everything about her life, but I really don’t care whether she has a brown with tan teddy bear or a tan with brown teddy bear. Doesn’t really matter to me.

But I don’t get away that easily. I did have to go shopping for strollers. To my wife’s credit, she made me go because, apparently, many strollers are made for people who are 4’3" which I am not. She wanted to make sure that I could operate the stroller without the need for back surgery later on.

We went to one store and found the stroller section. The strollers were on a shelf about six feet in the air and were fastened to the shelf using plastic cattle ties, those things that cops use when they run out of handcuffs. I asked a clerk if there was a way we could get the stroller down to take it for a test drive. "No," she said, and went back to her other job of ignoring me.

"Well, how can I see if I like it?" She shrugged, and turned to walk off. What a helpful lass! Eventually, we went to another store and found the same model of stroller, only not welded to the shelf. As my wife and I fiddled with the stroller, we found out that strollers are roughly comparable, in terms of complexity, to nuclear submarines. I hope to have the stroller figured out just in time for my grandchildren to use it.

So the baby train keeps on rolling, which is fine with me. I just can’t wait for that day in July when I bring my baby home for the first time, look into her eyes, and hear my wife say, "I think we should move the crib over there."