Remember when your friends talked about that awesome concert they went to – just hopped on a plane and flew to see someone like Duran Duran or Public Enemy – or that lazy train trip down the coast to Napa Valley for food and wine tasting, or the wild weekend of camping on a river that turned into a mushroom-laden orgy?
Everyone is having babies. I know babies are a common commodity the world will never run out of, so of course everyone is having babies. Just let me clarify: Everyone we know are having babies.
So the likelihood of hearing cool stories like the ones above in the future have plummeted from maybe-percent to never-percent. It’s going to be birthing plans and mucous plugs and Don’t say “shitfaced asshole motherfucker” in front of Baby Jeffrey! I’m in the eye of a storm filled with baby showers and drool. It smells like doom – sweet, terrifying doom.
Luckily, I’m like a baby whisperer – ask anyone, babies love me. I’m like Jodi Foster in The Silence of the Lambs, except with babies, not human-wearing serial killers. There’s some kind of undeniable intergalactic emotional connection betwixt us (or maybe I smell like food) – so I’ll be useful to my friends that are currently gestating (or trying to, anyway), like shape-shifting human condos that need ice cream to survive.
I worry our friend group is going to change drastically, and know it will, but begrudgingly accept that. I wonder if this current baby boom (six couples expecting, five couples in the process) will set off some uncontrollable biological alarm in my Polynesian genes. And I hope the babies aren’t named after celebrities or cities or adjectives that can only be interpreted as ‘slutty.’
I threw together this Tray of Delicious to celebrate an Impending Human Announcement with friends who live down the street. I grabbed my Lazy Susan and threw on some cheese (triple cream Brie, smoked sharp cheddar, and Beecher’s 4-Year Aged Flagship), my favorite crackers, a jar of almond-stuffed olives, and a giant dollop of hummus. For something sweet, I paired sliced peaches with fresh almond whipped cream later on.
When change is closing in, good ol’ cheese will always be there. It might not alleviate the growing pains of life, but it will strengthen your resolve to teach those babies when to drop a proper F-bomb and how to throw gang signs. There is so much that a baby doesn’t know. And in the end, it’s the passing of knowledge to the next generation that is most important.