Gender Reveal Parties Reveal My Rage

On a scale of 1-10, gender reveal parties make me want to punch a hole in the wall a 10+.  I can't tell you why, because other people's box of blue balloons or pink icing filled cupcakes don't affect me in any way directly.  But I just hate them.  They are a prime example of how every aspect of life is too commercialized and cheesy and of the dramatic decline of the simple relaying of facts.

 

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I was going to have a gender party and invite you all.  That is to say, I was going to take a picture of a piece of asparagus and two meat balls I had for dinner last week and tell you I was having a boy.  But, like usual, I forgot about my task and ate all the food instead.  But anyway, I'm having a boy.

 

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I've never seen anyone get so excited upon hearing the words "scrotal sac" as my husband did when we found out.  All he talks about now is how he is going to take our son fishing all the time. 

 

I had to break it to him that he also has to parent the child in between canoe rides.  His response: "Oh I'll spank him some too".  So, to sum up, he thinks parenting involves fishing and spanking.  End of sentence.

 

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I'm still perusing through this Expectant Motherhood book from the 40's.  And the differences between then and now continue to astound me.  For instance, now to reveal what gender baby we are having we invite over a bunch of people to watch us litter dangerous colored balloons into the atmosphere.  Back in the 40's, this is what they had to say about determination of sex:

 

"Were we to examine a large number of ova just as the spermatozoon is about to enter it, we should find that each ovum contains exactly twenty-four chromosomes; but close study would reveal that one of these differs from all the rest in appearance and is known by scientists to be a carrier of sex."

 

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So to say we have dumbed things down a bit would be a gross understatement.  Also, I heart the word spermatozoon. 

 

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I can tell by Pinterest that I am the minority in disliking these cheese-tastic gender reveal parties and subsequent Facebook posts about said parties, but can't a girl just like a good old fashioned scientific test and relation of fact to her parents and close friends?

 

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