The perfect baby gift

     People don't listen. And if they do, they tend to dismiss whatever doesn't jibe with what they already believe. 

     When dealing with my boys — and now their spouses — I try to break that pattern by actually attending to what they say, consider it, and weigh whether it might be true, even when I'm dubious.

     For instance. Almost as soon as our daughter-in-law informed us we'd be grandparents — in my memory, it was the next words out of her mouth — she instructed us that under no circumstances were we to kiss the baby, at least not on the head, at least not for the first six months. Because: germs. And bacteria. And disease. From us.

     Before these words had echoed away, I was online, checking the veracity of her claim. Because: really? Since when? Turns out to be true. I mentioned this last month. 

     It wasn't true when our boys were born in the mid-1990s.  Then, we were doing our parental duty if we didn't leave their carriers on top of the car and drive off. And I imagine it won't be true 30 years from now, when other concerns crowd to the forefront. Whether to implant the chip in their heads like everybody else, I imagine.

     Okay, fine, no worries. We'll withhold our kisses. Don't want to infect the baby. I didn't object beyond a crushed little, "But we can kiss a little socked foot, yes?"

     I tucked the information away, and forgot about it. We'll worry about it in June.

     But a few weeks back, I was looking for art to accompany something I'd written on the Suburban Cook County Tuberculosis Sanitarium District. Not many photos online. So I was glancing at old tuberculosis posters, and noticed a poster warning parents not to kiss their children.

    An idea bloomed. Perfect. I snapped into action.

    So I was ready when I attended my first baby shower last weekend, for the pending granddaughter. I'd never been to a baby shower before — they tend to be all-female affairs. 

     But my older son felt like being there — he's going to be a very hands on dad — and that opened the door to invite all the men in the family. We had a good time, nibbling beef tenderloin sandwiches and drinking mimosas.

     We didn't need to worry about a present — there's an online registry to choose from and, besides, we were going to the trouble and expense of the party, which is present aplenty.

     But I had still gotten a gift — one of those old TB posters I'd looked at, transferred to a onesie. There are businesses online that do that, and quickly too. 

     I would never be so bold as to claim that my gift was the hit of the shower, nor cast shade upon all the lovely little baby ensembles and complex bottle warmers and such the couple were given by others. But I will say that my present earned the biggest laugh of the afternoon. Score one for zayde.