Baby Shower

“Well Marge, what a lovely couple!”, Ken pronounced as they drove off the drive.

“You really think so?” was the sub-zero response. Ken sighed. The day had started so well…

Marge was bubbling with excitement; they were driving to see their first grandchild and the car was laden with gifts, including the “pre-loved“ but perfect three wheeled All Terrain Buggy, or ATB, that she’d bought on E-Bay. She’d been ecstatic when she won the item and was dying to tell her son and daughter-in-law all about it, but decided it would be so much nicer to see their faces when they unpacked it!

Their son Peter and his wife Hazel were very keen runners and to avoid duplicating items, had listed the expensive ATB amongst other items on a baby shower list. The list was then addressed to both sets of parents and friends, with instructions to tick off the items being bought, and then to send it to the next on the address list. Being first Marge, had ticked off her items and sent the email on, then set to the task with an enthusiasm that Ken had found most refreshing.

The journey passed without incident and they pulled onto their son’s driveway in fine spirits. Peter welcomed them with a hug and offered to help his dad unpack the car while Marge bustled happily into the house to meet her new granddaughter.

“Hello, I’m Catherine, Hazel’s mother, and you are?”, inquired the expensively and, in Marge’s opinion, over dressed woman who stood by the settee cuddling the baby.

“Erm, I’m Marjory”, she replied, somewhat taken aback. At that moment Peter and Ken came in carrying the parcels from the car.

“Ahh, I see you’ve met Catherine, Hazel’s mum. Catherine, this is my mum and dad, Marge and Ken. Where’s dad?” asked Peter, placing the parcels on the floor.

Ken looked a little confused and was about to speak when Catherine replied,

“He’s in the kitchen with Hazel, Peter. “

“Ahh, thanks mum. I’ll let you three get acquainted while I go chivvy them up. You two must be dying for a cuppa.”

Marge bristled at their son’s familiarity with this woman.

“Hello! I’m Ken! We’re very pleased to meet you at last!”, Ken offered his hand which Catherine shook politely with one hand while still cradling the baby with the other. Ken smiled and looked at the baby.

“Well isn’t she just lovely! She’s got her father’s eyes hasn’t she!”

“Actually we rather thought she’d inherited the Howard eyes”, Catherine replied.

Stuck up cow, thought Marge, barely containing her urge to grab the baby.

“Could I hold her perhaps?”, she asked sweetly, reaching out for her granddaughter.

Catherine turned and, still cradling the baby, walked through the doorway, leaving Ken and Marge wondering whether to follow or not.

“Well this is an unexpected pleasure isn’t it Marge!”, Ken beamed, “I didn’t expect to get to meet Hazel’s parents!”

“Hmmmph”, was the best Marge could manage.

“Mum! Dad! Your tea’s ready…”

They wandered through to the kitchen where Hazel stood with a smartly dressed gentleman.

“Hello! I’m Jonathan, Hazel’s dad. So very pleased to meet you both at last!”

He smiled warmly as he shook Marge’s hand and then, shaking Ken’s hand, led him and Peter off into the garden.

“Come on chaps! I expect the ladies will want to have a gossip”.

Hazel grinned at her dad, then stood and hugged Marge.

“Good to see you Marge, shall we go through to the study? We were just looking at some of the things mum and dad bought for Evie”.

Catherine looked knowingly at Marge, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Marge wondered what on earth the woman was smiling at. But then, on entering the study, she saw the brand new, top of the range All Terrain Buggy in the middle of the room.

“KEN! We’re leaving!”


About The Malt House

A keen amateur photographer and wordsmith, I love the countryside and all that it contains. I live in rural South Shropshire, on the border between England and Wales. I enjoy travel, reading, writing, landscape photography and music.
This entry was posted in Comedy, Conflict, Family, Lessons in Life, Short Story, The Unexpected. Bookmark the permalink.

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