Now it's time to wrap the baby stuff we bought. We don't have any baby paper, which means more shopping. As we dither around in the occasion-specific wrapping paper aisle, another confused shopper wanders through with a cart full of toys.
"You see any Dora paper?" he asks.
"No. Would that be in a little girl's birthday section?" I see they have a section for everything else. Why not little girls' birthdays?
He looks around blankly. "Do they have that here?"
"I don't know. Hey, there's some monkey paper." I point it out to Oz, who has taken one look at the baby paper and shuddered away. The monkey paper is rather horrible, with kicklines of photoshopped chimps in birthday hats.
The guy looks at the monkey paper with us. "Huh. Kind of like her mother." From this I construe that the toys are for his daughter's daughter. Because he wouldn't say that about his wife. Would he?
"Those are chimps. Chimps aren't monkeys, they are apes," Oz points out.
"There's a bag with a picture of a monkey photocopying his butt." It's even more horrible than the monkey paper. Also, it is a chimp, which is an ape.
"Now that would be like her mother."
We don't touch that. The guy wanders off in search of the elusive Dora wrapping. Oz grabs a baby gift bag large enough to hold his baby presents. A blue bow is selected. And some paper with ducks. Our gifts, at least, will be presentable at the baby shower tomorrow.
256 words | August 26, 2007 12:11 AM | Real true story