It was my Baby Jane’s special 30th birthday last September (for which I have yet to send her a gift, but I’m now thinking I won’t send it and will instead take it to her when I see her in the Spring). On that day, she received two strange birthday gifts.
Neither of these gifts solicited a same-reaction-as-Baby-Jane’s except mine. Something both of us found puzzling when I reacted as I did.
The first gift received was a ring. In a box. From her mother.
The second gift was a
n ugly, sorry Janey fertility god in the form of a fat baby Buddha with a bow on it’s head and made from some animal’s body part (the tusk of Dumbo, maybe?). Correct me here if I’m wrong, Baby.
Do you see a theme? Do you see a perhaps problematic theme?
Baby Jane did, and so did I.
Janey refused to tell me what her mother had gifted her, and instead chose to unveil it in order to see my reaction. My reaction that was one of shock and terror and complete disbelief. That ring should not have come from Janey’s mama; That ring should not have been gifted to any single woman except by that woman’s soon-to-be life partner, or herself if she decides that she wants a ring and doesn’t want to wait for a man to give her that ring.
I was in the kitchen for the unveiling and I nearly choked on the coffee I was drinking. And then Janey screamed a THANK YOU because no one else had seemed as dismayed by the gift in question. I’m not even sure if Janey wears the ring or if it’s sitting there in it’s box wondering where the sunshine is.
On to the fertility baby. Because? Because nothing says Happy Birthday quite like “because your womb needs all the help it can get, now that you’re close to barren, you sad and single thirty year old”.
Look. Both Janey and I understand that the fat fertility god was a very expensive antique, but honestly folks, you don’t give a fertility fattie to a single woman. And most definitely, not on her 30th birthday. If you do, then you should expect that she’ll hand you a box of depends on your 40th. And maybe some orthopaedics on your 43rd. Maybe.
(Happy Valentine’s Day from me, and a gentle reminder that you won’t be getting either a fat baby or a ring from me, but rather only what you deserve…and from the bottom of my heart, too.)