My wife is a smart woman. Very smart.
When it came time to pick the stroller, she wanted me to come along. Now mind you, my wife took a friend with her when she did our wedding registry. She did the same when she registered for baby stuff.
She did this for two reasons. One, she knows I don’t give a damn. "Do you want knives with wooden handles or plastic handles?” Ah, just hand me one so I can plunge it into my heart and end the misery of wedding shopping.
Unless sporting equipment or big-screen televisions suddenly become appropriate wedding gifts, I don’t need to be there. I can live without having a say on the blender or punch bowl.
The second reason she didn’t take me is because she knew I would rain on her parade by telling her not to register for things we do not need. I am notorious for wearing, watching, listening to, sitting on and eating and drinking from something until it is absolutely not useful.
I have clothes from 1989 in my closet. I’ll be damned if I am going to throw away something that I can eventually wear if 1) it comes back in style and 2) I lose 100 pounds. My wife cringes every time she sees my colored jean shorts peaking out of the closet.
I have bed sheets from the 1970s. (Thanks, Mom!) They actually came in handy one Halloween when I dressed up like a Hare Krishna and wore the pale orange sheets.
I have pre-Jordan tennis shoes. Hell, they may be pre-Nike. I have a mammoth couch that I bought in 1994 that sits eight people comfortably...and my wife can’t stand it. I have 15 sets of dishware collected when others threw theirs out. I just tossed out my old VCR from 1988. I have plastic cups I got at beer parties during my days at Kent State.
The point is, unless something can’t be used anymore, I am going to keep using it and I won’t buy new until it breaks down. So my wife knows if she takes me and tries to register for a can opener, I am going to point to the one I got at a garage sale the summer before going off to college and plead with her to take can opener off the registry. In other words, shopping with me is like sitting on a cold toilet seat. A miserable experience.
So, she took a friend for both the wedding and the baby shopping. We agreed whatever we registered for that was not purchased by someone else, we would purchase ourselves. Knowing this, I told her to only register for necessities and to be practical.
I don’t know if she followed my advice. She went, did her thing and I’ll see the results when I am forced to use something. I won’t even know the prices. Ignorance is bliss.
But I do know on one item – the stroller – she felt strongly I needed to be involved in the choosing. Once I saw the price, I knew why.
If you asked pre-baby how much a good stroller would cost, I would say about $80. I don’t know why that price is in my head, but it seems reasonable to me.
You know what is not a good price for a stroller? $450!!!! But when my wife dragged me out to the baby store and I went through all the pros and cons of strollers with a kindly old gent they call “Mr. Stroller,” that is exactly the price of stroller we registered for.
My wife knows if she had come home and informed me she had just registered for a $450 stroller, World War III would have broken out. I bought my first car – a 1968 Dodge Monaco – for only $500! Yes, it was nearly 20 years old at the time, but it was big enough to fit 47 Sydneys comfortably, each with accompanying box of diapers.
Like I said, my wife was smart enough to know this was a purchase I needed to be in on personally.
Simply put, I had no idea. First, that is not even close to being a top-of-the-line price. They had a stroller there that cost $1,200!!!!! I nearly had a heart attack and made Brooke a single mother when I saw that price tag. I’m convinced it is just there to make people feel GOOD about buying a $450 stroller. I inquired of Mr. Stroller as to whom might be a typical purchaser of these plush buggies, and he said folks from New York City will occasionally pop down and buy one. Of course! You know Midwesterners are not that stupid.
What a racket this baby business is. I think I was in my 30s before someone clued me in that I was supposed to buy presents when my friends had babies. What the heck does a 35-year-old guy know about baby presents? They’ll get a Bengals T-shirt and like it. And while I am on the subject, what a racket the wedding business is. You have to take engagement photos AND wedding photos?
I predict eventually the human race will become extinct because people can no longer afford to marry and procreate.
So anyway, after I see that $450 is sort of the average price for a stroller, I am resigned to my fate. Mr. Stroller rolls through all the pros and cons – bottle holders! – and finally sells me on the fact this is actually a “travel system” and it turns into a car seat. So it is kind of a two-for-one deal. Right now, I am grasping for any solid reason to spend a car payment on something that can fit in one third of the trunk. I allow my wife to put it on the registry, but I feel extremely dirty when she does.
The good ending to this story is someone bought the stroller for us --- thanks Mom and Dad Grover! -- and we will not have to buy it ourselves. But the moral of this story is that it is easier to sell someone on something if they do the research themselves.
Or maybe the moral is Mr. Stroller is making a killing on markups and the Ohio Attorney General should investigate his business practices.
