A whole bunch of people I know and like are suddenly full of baby and/or baby thoughts, so I am in the midst of a present-buying spree. I’m doing it online, of course, because it’s cheaper and there’s a better selection and honestly, the thought of walking into a baby supply store and looking for suitable gifts is vastly terrifying. I don’t know what any of those things do! Why are all the clothes so small? And then the questions – am I shopping for myself? Yeah, that’s a conversation I don’t need to have – are you saying I look pregnant? Implying that I allowed my uterus to be showered with sperm for a reason instead of fun; an ulterior ejaculatory motive? Is that it? HOW DARE YOU! WHY I NEVER! YOU’LL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYER!
See, I don’t actually HAVE a lawyer, so logic dictates that I prudently avoid any situation that might end in my suing someone. So, I shop online. Easy!
I really wish Amazon wasn’t so eager to be helpful, though:
These aren’t helpful suggestions, they’re my worst nightmare: baby items about poo. Why not just recommend some tarantulas and warm lettuce while you’re at it? Maybe some books by Beck and Coulter; some high-heeled Uggs and a box of Go-Bots? You don’t know me, Amazon. You don’t know me at ALL.