People will find any reason to throw a party. Normally, we can get behind that. Most parties are great. That is, unless it’s a gender reveal party. In that case, count me the fuck out.
When I was born, sometime in the early nineties, I imagine the scenario went like this:
Ultrasound tech: Do you want to know the gender?
My parents: Sure
Ultrasound tech: I’m not seeing a dick so this is probz a girl.
End of exchange.
Times have fucking changed, and I’m not thrilled about it.
Instead of having a special moment between medical professional and parents-to-be, the “gender reveal” process is now a huge fiasco.
I’ll admit, I just don’t get it. You’re already having a baby shower and now you’re expecting me to celebrate this kid I don’t even know TWICE before it’s even born?
What if your kid turns out to be a total asshole and I’ve already had to attend not one, but TWO booze-free events in its honor? I can’t get a refund on that precious wasted time.
Then, at this party, I have to pretend to be excited for a couple’s imminent demise. If you thought your married friends were no fun anymore, you can’t even begin to imagine how not fun they’ll be when they have a baby.
Betches are pros at putting on a game face and pretending to want to celebrate someone else. This is just one of those times where I’d prefer to not be forced to do that.
If it’s, like, someone else’s birthday party, at least you can get drunk and then talk shit about that person later. At your dumb gender reveal party, it’s probably super inappropriate to get shit-faced, even if alcohol is served, and then you can’t just like, go home and talk shit about someone’s unborn baby. I’m rude, not Satan.
I’ll put on my game face for your baby shower because I want you to buy me gifts in the future, just please don’t invite me to your gender reveal party.
Oh, and will I throw one of these for myself if I ever get knocked up? Sure I will. I like the attention and making other people suffer though the same hell they put me though. Karma’s a bitch. You’re welcome.