Baby Blues

About three weeks ago, right before Memorial Day, I think, The Supervisor's daughter gave birth. The supervisor became a grandma. I did my thing; I congratulated her, and pretended to be interested in her family. I smiled at the picture she showed me. And when she said, "Isn't he cute." I just smiled and nodded rather than saying he looks like a crustacean without its shell--all pink and squishy with bulbous eyes. Yuck.

That Thursday, I was handed a card by SHTK and told to sign it. I asked what it was for. She said it was to congratulate The Supervisor on her grandchild. SHTK told me, again, to sign it and then pass it on to the next clerk for more signing. I sighed and rolled my eyes. It's not like The Supervisor had to do any work in getting this grandson. Her daughter is the one who, hopefully, had fun making it and had to do the bulk of the work during the incubation period. (The son-in-law did the rest of the work.) Sure, The Supervisor visited her daughter after the due date came and went, but before that, she complained a lot about her daughter not bringing the baby belly to North Bay, like her daughter and her daughter's husband didn't just move into a new place so there would be room for the baby and they didn't want everything set up and ready by the time the incubation was over. I sighed again and signed the card. I didn't write anything clever, because, honestly, I didn't care.

On Friday, SHTK came to work carrying a bag. It was the kind of bag presents are placed in. When I looked closer, I saw little plumes of tissue paper coming out the top. I didn't ask what it was. I didn't want to know. It was none of my business. TMSV, on the other hand, decided that it was her business. "What's in the bag?" she demanded. SHTK slid her hand in and pulled out started to pull out something fuzzy. It was a stuffed stegosaurus, exactly they kind of stuffed animal who would have terrorized all the stuffed animals, but was really a coward and a nice guy, if I had it when I was a kid. "Who's it for?" demanded TMSV. SHTK said it was for The Supervisor, to go with the card. TMSV got excited. I wanted to pound my head into my desk.

Ten minutes later, SHTK poked her head around the partition that blocks my view of the front and said, "Everyone else is giving some money for the gift. You don't have to if you don't want to." And she turned away.

I don't bring cash with me to work unless I'm planning on going out to lunch or cruise the comic shop. If I have it on me, I'll spend it. So, I couldn't give her anything, but I saw the production that was made when the others gave her a few dollars. I went on my break.

As I walked back to my desk after my break ended, SHTK came around a corner so fast she almost hit me. "Hurry up," she said.

"Why?"

"We're giving her the dinosaur and the card now," she said in a hushed voice and turned around, walking quickly away from me.

I rolled my eyes again and followed her.

The gift and the card were received with much thanks. And I slinked back to my desk as soon as I could.

Last week, Monday or Tuesday, NPWH's oldest daughter produced a spawn of her own. This time, I wasn't subjected to pictures and inane questions. NPWH has her own office-esque area and stays pretty private. (I didn't even know her daughter was carrying until Monday morning because her daughter had been in the hospital over the weekend with labor pains.) She doesn't foist stories of her life on the people of the office to prove that she has one, like The Supervisor does. (Remember, people, you choose to come here and have my "life" forced on you. It's not like being stuck in the break room trying to read and hearing about the same damn car trip down Highway 49 her and her husband took five years ago.) So, after the announcement, I congratulated her and said that I bet she's extra eager to get to her vacation now to see the little one. She agreed that she can't wait to go. And that was that.

Until yesterday, when SHTK came at me with a card, "Sign it and pass it along," she said. "It's for NPWH."

This time, I signed it and passed it along without the sighing and eye rolling.

Today, a Piglet toy, that rattles when you shake it, showed up in a party bag. That's when I rolled my eyes.

I got up to hunt down files and SHTK chased me around the same corner we nearly collided at two weeks ago. "Where are you going?" She was flustered.

"I'm doing my work." I waved the papers I had in my hand at her.

"But we're giving [NPWH] the card and toy now. Come on." She hurried away.

I sighed and followed.