If there's one thing your mom and dad have learned to do in the past seven months, it's learning to take a compliment. Grocery stores are rife with complimentary people. Mothers, daughters, would-be fathers, seasoned dads -- it's like these people trawl the aisles not for bargains on beef tri-tip or discounts on salad dressing, but for babies to ogle.
"Oh my goodness, she's precious."
Your dad turns to you. "Say 'thank you,' baby," he says. It's genetically half his fault you're so beautiful -- face symmetrical, round eyes, round cheeks, wavy hair -- but your dad stumbles awkwardly over a simple thank you. So he asks you to say thank you on your own behalf. You don't speak yet, but it leaves your dad comfortably out of the picture.
"We've got one in the oven," says one jovial guy. He points a rugged finger at his girlfriend's stomach to indicate "the oven." He's middle aged and she's mid twenties, yet the new mom looks years more mature. She smiles dutifully, herself getting used to people staring at her stomach.
"How far along are you?" your dad asks.
"Five months," she says.
"Nice," your dad says. That was going to be his answer no matter how far along she was. Your dad pushes further into the milk and eggs aisle, and lets Mr. Oven bend at the waist and wave goodbye to you.
For many people, complimenting a baby is as easy and compulsory as petting a puppy. It's similar to receiving a 'like' in Facebook, except in person. But it's the in-person part that sets your dad on an awkward slope.
"Have fun," your dad says to Mr. and Mrs. Oven. As if the two of them were off on a road trip, or perhaps tilting back a few after-work beers on a Wednesday evening. In his head, your dad practices saying, "Say 'bye bye,' baby," instead of brewing up his own conversation closers.
