"UGH! Am I crazy or are they all crazy?!" I swung around to face him a moment after banging down the phone.
"They're all crazy." He said this without even looking up from the newspaper.
"I mean, I just don't get it." I shook my head, still going over the conversation I had just had with my friend who was throwing a baby shower for another friend.
"I thought you only get one baby shower." Roc observed, now folding the paper.
"You're only supposed to get one baby shower! But these girls are...baby-crazy! I don't know; I just...don't understand their expectations...I feel like I wouldn't even want one. I mean," and I turned to face him head-on, "they are soooooooo boring."
"I would assume." He shrugged.
"No! You can't imagine. They are awful! You just sit there for hours OOOooohhing and AAAaaahhing over endless amounts of crap, eating bad food, while everyone around me talks endlessly about shit I don't even understand."
I paused a beat, and then said: "I hate going. I feel trapped."
"So don't go." He was a man after all, and for him, it was that easy.
"I wish." I let out a sigh and then got up to check her THIRD registry.