Baby shower

This past Saturday I drove up to the midlands to attend my first ever baby shower. Very much an American tradition, baby showers aren't the norm in England. Susan, part of my "extended" family (I've spoken about how the Bullock family took me in when I came to England and Patty and John are like second parents to me - Susan is their youngest daughter), is due to have her first child in May.

I arrived in Ilkeston (town of said baby shower) in time to be somewhat useful. Patty was just headed to the church building to finish setting up, so I helped her finish packing the car and we drove down to the building. Then it was a busy hour of grading cheese, making sandwiches, veggie platters, punch, nibbles, and decorating before the masses came.

Patty pouring the punch into the pitchers (we didn't have a big bowl, so the punch was mixed in a big saucepan - hey, we're resourceful!)

Patty asked me to organise one of the games that I had suggested: figure out what's in the baby's nappy. Basically you moosh up / melt some chocolate or various eatable ingredients into a nappy (diaper) and everyone has to guess what's inside by smelling, tasting, etc. Fun stuff!

This is a rather revolting nappy filled with a mixture of brown sauce and mustard.

Susan was a bit taken aback by the sight of the disgustingness in the nappies!

We also played a version of pin the tail on the donkey: pin the bottle on the baby. This is Susan's grandmother having a go.

Patty asked me to write down the list of presents as Susan opened them as she thought I had good handwriting. I always ask my mom to write lists like this because she's got such lovely handwriting, so it was a big compliment to me to be asked to do it because of my penmanship. Okay so maybe I'm weird - I was still flattered. But midway through the present opening Sara, a family friend of the Bullocks, was telling me a story that had me in uncontrollable laughter. It was one of those moments when everything stops and everyone is looking at you wanting to know what's funny, but you can't repeat it and you must stop laughing but trying to stop just makes you laugh harder. I love that kind of laughter.

Ashley (Susan's husband) was kind enough to get some very unflattering photos of my giggles.

The culprit to the right of me in the picture is Sara, smiling ever so proudly at the laughter she had caused.