- 10:11 a.m.
Babies. Babies everywhere.
I don’t know if y’all have heard, but for the last several years there has been a
LESBIAN BABY BOOM.
Now, wait- that doesn’t mean that there has been a BOOM of LESBIAN BABIES being born (although, maybe there has been, and if so, LUCKY THEM in about 20-something years); No, what it means is that a whole helluva lotta LESBIANS have been HAVING or GETTING (adopting) BABIES.
Most recently (in the long list of the baby boom), 2 friends of ours adopted a BABY BOY… okay, it was 3 looooooooooooooong months ago… and we (my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/fellow procrastinator and I) had yet to meet HIM.
THE GUILT, for me, was unbearable.
Even though the friends weren’t superclose friends, they were still in our play-group(ish) and we adore them and… damnit to all high-hell, we should have gotten our asses over to meet their new son… much sooner.
I would see a toddler in a stroller on the street and wonder if THAT was the size of their little baby; If a commercial for diapers, baby food or loan refinancing came on, I immediately thought: HOLY HECK! we STILL haven’t met THE BABY, and my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/pedicurist would say “Well, come on…let’s just go meet THE BABY then”…. “Oh, but it’s not THAT simple”, I’d tell her as she put the finishing touches on my pedicure (hello tiny bottles of sephora nail polish and very patient girlfriend who paints each and every one of my toes for me). “We have to call. We have to plan. We have to use anti-bacterial soap”.
Time was running out.
I promised myself that by the time ASHTON KUTCHER and BRITTNEY MURPHY broke up, we’d have met THE BABY. Nope. ASHTON was already meeting DEMI before we met the baby (oh, and hi to Puff Daddy, too).
Surely before the NEWEST AMERICAN IDOL was crowned, we’d have met that baby? Uhhh, no. Ruben and Clay met Katie Couric and Matt Lauer, but we still had NOT MET THAT BABY.
Okay…WAIT A MINUTE….we’d have to meet the baby BEFORE weapons of mass destruction were found in IRAQ…. Alright, so THIS ONE we accomplished.
So, Friday, with the BREAKING NEWS of a PLANE CRASHING INTO AN APARTMENT BUILDING in our very city, we made our way over to MEET THAT BABY.
We are greeted at the door by SWEETIE(not her real name, obviously), the prison warden(ish) type/family friend who monitors all the comings and goings and obviously decides WHO gets in to see the baby. Let’s just say that SWEETIE has no problem getting rid of solicitors, is never bothered by little girls selling cookies, or gardeners pimping for new clients. SWEETIE can really SHUT YOU DOWN.
And yes… nothing says “WELCOME TO MEETING THE BABY” like a FULL BODY CAVITY SEARCH(ish) by a “I’ve never cracked a smile in my life” prison warden(ish) type/family friend (with large hands). I think I’ll anonymously send SWEETIE a tube of LUBRICANT for all those who follow after. It’s just the right thing to do.
So…. SWEETIE removed her latex gloves, tossed them into the garbage and grunted/gestured toward the back of the house where OUR FRIEND/ONE OF THE NEW(ish) MOTHERS was located with THE BABY. The wonderful baby, who was now 3 MONTHS OLD and we had never yet met… until this very moment.
Of course, THE BABY was FABULOUS and GOOEY and GIGGLY and DROOLY and COOEY and SMILEY and all the rest of Snow White’s Dwarves names… he was all that, PLUS!
How could we possibly have waited THIS LONG to meet THE BABY?
Suddenly we hear the TV get louder in another room, and it’s SWEETIE, the prison warden(ish) type/family friend… and she’s watching the BREAKING NEWS about the PLANE CRASHING into an apartment building in our very city, and the SIRENS from the BREAKING NEWS and all the COMMOTION start to upset THE BABY (AND my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/breaking-news-hater, for that matter) so THE NEW MOTHER (and I) decide we will take THE BABY and MY GIRLFRIEND/ SAME-SEX PARTNER/LADY-LOVER/MEAL-TICKET/BREAKING-NEWS-HATER outside… for a walk. It’s a beautiful tree-lined neighborhood, why not?
So, THE NEW MOTHER puts THE BABY into a kick-ass/bitchin-cool ORANGE STROLLER with beefy/off-road wheels and I… well, I just grab the hand of my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/breaking-news-hater… and we head outside for a walk.
Once outside, we are greeted by a SKY FULL of HELICOPTERS…. all covering the BREAKING NEWS a few miles away. We can’t escape it. Briefly I imagine that the HELICOPTERS are all trying to capture footage of my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/hand-holder and I …HOLDING HANDS, so I casually drop her hand. So much for public displays.
And yet, still…we take our walk… talking loudly(ish) over the BREAKING NEWS-COVERING HELICOPTERS, looking at THE BABY, who seems oblivious to all the noise, but is probably just super duper happy to be out of the house and away from SWEETIE, the prison warden(ish) type/family friend who tries to keep nice people away from him. I know my girlfriend/ same-sex partner/lady-lover/meal-ticket/hand-holder and I were glad to be away from SWEETIE. Come on SWEETIE, next time, warm the speculum.
But, you know something—SWEETIE is too easy of a target. I should revise this.
SWEETIE probably has issues.
Wait- she most certainly has issues, and yet—she LOVES THE BABY, so she can’t be all bad, right? Can she? Huh?
And in following that revised thinking, I’m guessing that THE BABY is very lucky to have a prison warden(ish) type/family friend like SWEETIE in his corner. I’m sure she’ll follow him to school, once he’s old enough to go, and he’ll never have a worry.
I can just see SWEETIE seated in one of those tiny plastic chairs next to THE BABY (okay, by that time he’ll be THE BOY) in his PRIVATE SCHOOL doing little art projects, making sure that the OTHER KIDS share the scissors, glue and construction paper—OR ELSE!
No lunch line skirmishes or bullies demanding milk money—SWEETIE will be right there, in disguise, behind the lunch counter, in a hair net, serving out the vegetables with a large metal spoon(not unlike the speculum), and she’ll reach across the glass sneeze guard, and SHAKE DOWN whatever little thug tries to pull any moves on THE BOY.
Somehow, this pleases me.
I’m glad THE BABY/THE BOY has SWEETIE on his side.
I just hope she loosens up by the time he’s ready to date.