Michael D. Davis.

As you may know, I am one in which anxieties tend to grow and fester. And I have a story, which I believe justifies my said anxieties. What you’re about to read is a story that has come to be known as The Baby Food Incident.

Okay, so we have a friend of the family, a couple. And this couple is about to have their first child. And back, at the tail end of October, they had a baby shower. We were invited, and Ma, my Sister, and I went. First of all, it was held two hours away. A drive that my sister somehow made in three hours and made it feel like nine hours.

I was nervous before we even got there. When we arrived, we greeted the couple and found a seat in the back. After not too long, the games commenced. First was a trivia game about the wife or mother-to-be. My table did alright. Next up was Family Feud Baby Edition. I didn’t know the answers so I filled out my card with joke answers that the Husband thought were funny. I didn’t win. Although, I stand by the Thong Song being a well-known lullaby.

The last game was the baby food game. Now, several weeks prior upon being told of my invitation to the event, Ma said that the wife had talked the husband into participating in the baby food game. Surprise to me when the game is announced and the wife nominates me and my sister to be contestants and the husband is hiding back by the trash can.

After some nudging and prodding, both I and my sister stand to participate in the events. The wife comes over with a plastic bib with the visage of a lobster on it and says, “Okay, who’s eating? And who’s feeding?” I immediately said no to the eating. Of course, my sister did as well. Ma, I believe only partially following what’s going on nominates me for “the eating”. The wife then tries to put the bib on me, but since I’m wearing my hat and glasses it’s a no-go. I do it myself.

Next thing I know I am sat on a chair. My sister sits down in front of me. Two more sets of people, one including the wife, settles down next to us. I look past my sister into a room full of people I don’t know and wonder how I got into this position. My sister is handed three objects, an open jar of baby food, a tiny spoon, and a blindfold. I hand away my dignity.

The object of the game was to have the blindfolded “feeder” feed their partner, the “eater”, and whoever finishes first wins. The others sat incredibly close to each other, I believe to strategically have an advantage at the game. I don’t know. My sister and my knees didn’t touch. My sister and I have known each other for decades and the few times we have ever made contact with one another it was usually violently.

The game was about to begin. My sister had the blindfold on. In her left hand the jar, in her right the spoon. She was lurched forward in the chair like an old woman with a spinal injury. The game started. My sister tried to put the spoon in the jar and missed. I didn’t feel good about our chances of winning. She then slowly held straight out a spoon loaded with baby food. I ate it. It was the first thing I’d eaten all day.

The others are going wild, and continuously missing the target that is their partner’s mouths. I have to tell my sister to speed up. We don’t miss. The husband, my friend, comes away from the trash can and towards the spectacle. He looks towards me. He puts his hand on his face to conceal a look of horror and pity. The same face the kid had when he had to shoot Old Yeller. I think the husband wanted to put me out of my misery. I would have welcomed that. He retreats with a slung head back to his trash can.

I keep eating the baby food. We are almost done. On the last bite, she misses my mouth and gets it in my beard. There is a scream, another has one. My sister takes off her blindfold and looks at me. My bib is dry but my beard is not.

I’m still not sure how I got into that situation or survived it. But I am sure of two things. One, my anxiety over attending was justified, and two, it makes for a funny story.