The Registry
Today I went with a few friends to Target, because two of us are attending a baby shower tomorrow, in honor of someone we work with. The woman and her husband are registered at Target, and so those of us attending from work (originally 3 of us) decided we'd go to Target to check out the registry and go in on a joint gift. Then, one couldn't make it and didn't go to get the gift, leaving me and my friend Doug (plus two others who came along for the ride) to go hunting for baby registry stuff.
First of all, this registry business is ridiculous. Does anybody have any idea how hard it is to buy a gift off a registry? They make you think it's easy by deceiving you early in the process. It seems so simple just to go up to a computer (don't even wait in the billion person customer service line!) and just type in the name, print out the list, and you're set. Only not at all, because you have to check to make sure that the list is updated to the MINUTE to make sure that you don't duplicate gifts (thus forget the bypassing the whole line thing). But that's not even my issue. If it were up to me, I'd have someone accompany anybody with a registry. They send you on your way with just a list of items and the item number. They say that they have the aisle number, which is a joke, because there are no aisles markings. They abbreviate everything, too, so you don't even know what you're looking for. Like NB Bzz Bee Bxt, or some crap like that. I don't know what that is. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but apparently I should because the serial number is there. Have you ever attempted to look for an item by serial number? I hope to hell not. It's a horrible thing to have to do. Trust me on this. If you add in that you're searching for a newborn baby item with a guy in the midddle of a bunch of moms and moms-to-be, points to you if you don't feel like killing yourself, the guy, or the people gaping at your idiocy.
Pretty much, everyone thought I was shopping for my own unborn child. (And YES, I know it would be shorter to write "pregnant," but there's no way in hell I'm even remotely writing that at this point in my life.) Let me tell you, it's horrible to walk around and have everyone think you're having a baby when you're not, and add to that that you're with one other guy, buying everything, and you've got people thinking you've gotten knocked up, you're walking around with the guy who'd rather be buying DVDs or a barbecue grill, and you've got no money since you're arguing over finding the $2.99 onesies versus the $8.99 sets. (By the way, infants, seemingly simple creatures, have so much complicated shit they need, it's ridiculous. It's like speaking a whole new language - onesie, diaper genie, all this other crap.)
By the way, and for the record, Doug wasn't doing much to help the situation. It's always funny when you're not the one assumed to be having the baby, because he was free to make jokes about this being the longest one night stand of his life.
I learned a few things from my little trip to Target. First, registries are ridiculous. I haven't quite figured out a way to get around this, but for starters, I think I'll be less specific. It's not just baby registries - my friends and I went looking for a wedding gift a few months ago, and the ridiculous specificities just make life horrendous. Like this couple wanted these measuring cups, but there were like 10 different sets. They wanted a specific set, so there were the three of us, inspecting serial numbers. Ridiculous. And today, Doug and I are looking over whether the white onesies we are holding are serial number ending in 1847, and if they're not (and they weren't) we have to look again and find the ones that match the number. They're measuring cups! And they're white onesies, which a kid will puke on anyway! God help me.
The second thing I learned was that there are two people who work at Target: helpful people and not helpful people. I walked over to one woman, registry in hand, and asked if she could help me. She barely muttered back "Yeah," before getting her act together enough to call someone who could (enter the second type of employee: helpful.) This guy was funny and didn't mind that Doug said "fuck" in the baby aisle and that I followed it up with "shit." Though he could not locate the item on the registry, I liked him anyway.
The last, and probably most important, thing I learned is that I don't want to have a baby right now. Sure, babies are cute and their clothes look cute, but the whole experience reminded me that I don't want to deal with the unfun stuff at all right now. Like, they have all this medical crap they have to get. And they have all this boring stuff like ear thermometers and bottles that are pretty significant/vital to a kid's life, and I don't really like any of that right now. Plus, I would probably be afraid I'd drop the kid and do some pretty signifcant damage. Not something I want to deal with.
And, when people think you're having a kid, they watch you more. Trust me, people were looking at me and poor Doug trying to find the correct infant clothing while simultaneously trying not to kill each other. If someone had come up to us with a referral for either a counselor or adoption agency, I can't say the person wouldn't have been justified. I thought about explaining it to these people, but it was too funny to continue. For instance, one woman's jaw literally dropped when she saw Doug swat at me with the rolled up registry paper and tell me that we couldn't afford the cute baby clothes.
The thing is, nobody else finds it funny when you insinuate abuse, whine about infants, or mock marriage.
We finished the baby shopping and went to look at things we need to buy for ourselves, like DVDs and Rubbermaid containers. As we walked by a barbecue grill, Doug stopped to look at it.
"You can't buy that!" I nagged. "We just bought baby clothes! We can't afford both!"
Doug didn't miss a beat. "Look," he said, without any patience left, "I earn the money! Don't tell me what I can or cannot buy!"
And of course, we both laughed. But the woman with the toddler riding in the front of the shopping cart didn't even break a smile. Too bad.
Oh, and in case anybody was wondering, Doug and I found half of the registry items we were looking for and supplemented the rest. It is what it is, people. There's only so long you can hang around in the infant aisle making jokes about getting knocked up.
First of all, this registry business is ridiculous. Does anybody have any idea how hard it is to buy a gift off a registry? They make you think it's easy by deceiving you early in the process. It seems so simple just to go up to a computer (don't even wait in the billion person customer service line!) and just type in the name, print out the list, and you're set. Only not at all, because you have to check to make sure that the list is updated to the MINUTE to make sure that you don't duplicate gifts (thus forget the bypassing the whole line thing). But that's not even my issue. If it were up to me, I'd have someone accompany anybody with a registry. They send you on your way with just a list of items and the item number. They say that they have the aisle number, which is a joke, because there are no aisles markings. They abbreviate everything, too, so you don't even know what you're looking for. Like NB Bzz Bee Bxt, or some crap like that. I don't know what that is. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but apparently I should because the serial number is there. Have you ever attempted to look for an item by serial number? I hope to hell not. It's a horrible thing to have to do. Trust me on this. If you add in that you're searching for a newborn baby item with a guy in the midddle of a bunch of moms and moms-to-be, points to you if you don't feel like killing yourself, the guy, or the people gaping at your idiocy.
Pretty much, everyone thought I was shopping for my own unborn child. (And YES, I know it would be shorter to write "pregnant," but there's no way in hell I'm even remotely writing that at this point in my life.) Let me tell you, it's horrible to walk around and have everyone think you're having a baby when you're not, and add to that that you're with one other guy, buying everything, and you've got people thinking you've gotten knocked up, you're walking around with the guy who'd rather be buying DVDs or a barbecue grill, and you've got no money since you're arguing over finding the $2.99 onesies versus the $8.99 sets. (By the way, infants, seemingly simple creatures, have so much complicated shit they need, it's ridiculous. It's like speaking a whole new language - onesie, diaper genie, all this other crap.)
By the way, and for the record, Doug wasn't doing much to help the situation. It's always funny when you're not the one assumed to be having the baby, because he was free to make jokes about this being the longest one night stand of his life.
I learned a few things from my little trip to Target. First, registries are ridiculous. I haven't quite figured out a way to get around this, but for starters, I think I'll be less specific. It's not just baby registries - my friends and I went looking for a wedding gift a few months ago, and the ridiculous specificities just make life horrendous. Like this couple wanted these measuring cups, but there were like 10 different sets. They wanted a specific set, so there were the three of us, inspecting serial numbers. Ridiculous. And today, Doug and I are looking over whether the white onesies we are holding are serial number ending in 1847, and if they're not (and they weren't) we have to look again and find the ones that match the number. They're measuring cups! And they're white onesies, which a kid will puke on anyway! God help me.
The second thing I learned was that there are two people who work at Target: helpful people and not helpful people. I walked over to one woman, registry in hand, and asked if she could help me. She barely muttered back "Yeah," before getting her act together enough to call someone who could (enter the second type of employee: helpful.) This guy was funny and didn't mind that Doug said "fuck" in the baby aisle and that I followed it up with "shit." Though he could not locate the item on the registry, I liked him anyway.
The last, and probably most important, thing I learned is that I don't want to have a baby right now. Sure, babies are cute and their clothes look cute, but the whole experience reminded me that I don't want to deal with the unfun stuff at all right now. Like, they have all this medical crap they have to get. And they have all this boring stuff like ear thermometers and bottles that are pretty significant/vital to a kid's life, and I don't really like any of that right now. Plus, I would probably be afraid I'd drop the kid and do some pretty signifcant damage. Not something I want to deal with.
And, when people think you're having a kid, they watch you more. Trust me, people were looking at me and poor Doug trying to find the correct infant clothing while simultaneously trying not to kill each other. If someone had come up to us with a referral for either a counselor or adoption agency, I can't say the person wouldn't have been justified. I thought about explaining it to these people, but it was too funny to continue. For instance, one woman's jaw literally dropped when she saw Doug swat at me with the rolled up registry paper and tell me that we couldn't afford the cute baby clothes.
The thing is, nobody else finds it funny when you insinuate abuse, whine about infants, or mock marriage.
We finished the baby shopping and went to look at things we need to buy for ourselves, like DVDs and Rubbermaid containers. As we walked by a barbecue grill, Doug stopped to look at it.
"You can't buy that!" I nagged. "We just bought baby clothes! We can't afford both!"
Doug didn't miss a beat. "Look," he said, without any patience left, "I earn the money! Don't tell me what I can or cannot buy!"
And of course, we both laughed. But the woman with the toddler riding in the front of the shopping cart didn't even break a smile. Too bad.
Oh, and in case anybody was wondering, Doug and I found half of the registry items we were looking for and supplemented the rest. It is what it is, people. There's only so long you can hang around in the infant aisle making jokes about getting knocked up.
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