Baby shower for dad

While at work the other day, I was given a toy fire truck, a bottle of wine, and a tube of butt paste. Without context, one might think that my fellow employees lack proper boundaries. With context, however, one might think that they are the coolest folks around. Without my knowledge, my colleagues had planned a surprise baby shower, complete with snacks, a diaper cake, and a fire truck. The shower was thrown just for me, and it was extremely touching.
I have no idea if this is common. My mother once told me that she helped throw a baby shower for a man, so I’m guessing that this is not terribly uncommon. She also said that he re-wrapped every gift, thus allowing his wife to open them at a later time. I did not do this. I did, however, take pictures of myself wearing the fire hat, while sitting in front of the diaper cake, and sent these photos to my wife’s cell phone. Some might call this bragging, and they would be correct. I was extremely proud of my shower.
It was a fantastic display of support from people at work, and one that I will never forget. To be honest, though, I should not have been that surprised. I have rarely gone a week without a request for an update on my wife’s pregnancy. Everyone has been supportive. People at work have regularly asked about the baby’s room, the baby’s name, my wife’s health, my feelings, and everything baby-related. My excitement for this child’s birth has never waned, and I should partly thank my colleagues for that. They have been incredible.
The whole shower experience actually taught me a few things, too. I learned that diaper cakes are easily dismantled. I learned that butt paste exists. I learned that Mr. Chuggington is the name of a popular children’s show, and not a drinking game.  I also learned that I have support everywhere I turn.