BitterSweetLife

Nature brims with examples of rugged, masculine showers. Why not follow suit?

Yesterday I attended my first coed wedding shower, which was also, appropriately, my first wedding shower.

An old friend of mine, Tim, is getting married this Summer, and ever since we were reunited by the magic of the internet, I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk a little in person. He and his fiance traveled down to KC from Ohio, so the shower was a can’t-miss occasion.

A brief side note: I’ve always said there are obvious inequities involved in this custom of “showers,” the most obvious being that the guys are left out in the cold. Not that we want to sit around eating fruit cups and playing girly word games—no, our concerns are more deeply-rooted. We want stuff. And no matter what you say about tradition and “treating the lady,” it’s manifestly unfair that the girls get lingerie and clothing and the guys get…that toaster we registered for at Target.

Since the girls get showers (Lindsay had four), the guys should get “storms” or something—an occasion to receive tools and camping gear and manly books. But I’m digressing.

Yesterday’s occasion was tastefully carried off, as Tim and Brit received gifts that avoided disgusting gender neutrality while catering to both parties. (Tim netted a tool box and some wrenches.) Observing this overdue defiance of convention was enjoyable and, in some ways, therapeutic. I’m happy for them both—a socially just shower is an excellent forerunner to a happy marriage.

And while I’m on the subject, my own marriage deserves comment here. Lindsay being out of town yesterday, “on tour” with a drama group drawn from our church’s young people, I was forced to attend the shower alone.

Initially, I was unconcerned. It was only as the agenda was announced—“We’ll all go around, introduce ourselves, and offer Tim and Brit a word of advice”—that I felt the uneasy sensation of approaching rashness. Oh boy, what do I say? I was third in line, and in lieu of anything profound or wise occurring to me, I knew something outrageous would rise to the surface. I needed Lindsay’s balancing influence. But then it was too late.

“Tim, it’s essential, early on, that Brit comes to appreciate your athletic abilities…”

Sigh. If Lindsay had been there, I know I would have eloquently expressed any one of the half-dozen deeply profound, poignant and romantic insights I’m thinking of right now. Darn it.

Anyway, congratulations Tim and Brit!
And for you single readers, here's to many more socially just showers!