Catering To Her Every Whim

When my mother volunteered to have me cater part of my brother’s baby shower, I thought nothing of it, even as I learned that almost 70 people would be attending babyfest ’07. It wasn’t like she’d asked me to cater the WHOLE thing. No, just a couple of dishes, she assured me. The rest would come courtesy of some cheesy Italian chain. Once again fine by me.

Not lately, I’ve been a bit on edge. First the dog had health problems. Now I’m suffering my own health problems. It’s always something these days. And this weekend was no different. Now for the most part, things have been quiet around here, especially since there are a good five states between the Fedster and I. Nothing says “the better not to see you with” than separation by the Mason-Dixon line.

So you’d think I’d be in all my glory not having to deal with him on a daily basis, and you’d be oh so right. But he picked the right time to be thousands of miles away. You see, when I explain how my “catering” debacle went down, it’s important to keep in mind that had J-Fed been in town I would have blamed him for EVERYTHING, even if he had absolutely NOTHING to do with any of it.

Let’s rewind to Saturday night. The baby woke up at 3 a.m. for a late-night feeding. She’s grumpy and teething these days. Finally, J-Fed cannot deny that she’s teething as there is a lone tooth popping through her gums that is visible to the naked eyes. Thank God for small miracles. So back to 3 a.m. where I had been resting peacefully until her shrilling awakened me out of a dead sleep. I grabbed a bottle from the fridge and stuck it in her mouth. Much to my dismay, she turned her head and refused to take it. Apparently, she had an aversion to the bottle. I grabbed another bottle in a second attempt and returned to my bedroom.