Obnoxious parents, to the nth degree

First-time parents are something else.

And I don't mean that in a good way.

We met some of Gary's colleauges for dinner last night. There are visitors in from Germany, so one of his subordinates decided to have the group over for dinner. It was a very small part of the group, but that's another story. The couple who hosted is a young couple. They have one daughter, who is about 18 months old..

The entire evening, for them - our hosts - was about this kid.

They talked about her incessantly.

They had her dance for us.

And held her up to kiss us.

They showed off her toys.

They talked about their nanny situation.

They literally shoved her into the arms of unsuspecting adults to be held and cuddled.

It was all somewhat nauseating.

Don't get me wrong - I am fond of children. I have three of my own whom I love dearly. But I try not to assume that the rest of the world is as enamored of my offspring as I am. I understand that other people have their own children, whom they can shower with love and affection. It's not all about my kids, all the time.

These two clearly do not get it. We had no sooner walked in the door when the dad was trying to get this little girl to kiss Gary. Later, on the way home, we concurred that this is a bit odd, not to mention unhealthy - really, what do they know about us? I think it's OK, even advisable, to teach children some boundaries.

And the general rule is, you don't ask others if they want to hold the baby; you wait until they express an interest. You don't want to force babies on people, or set yourself up for awkward refusals. But before I could respond, he dropped the kid in my lap. She, the wife, commented, but he ignored her, saying, It's OK - she knows how to handle kids.

Um, yes I do. But I get enough handling of my own children, thank you.

Poor Sebastian, one of the guys from Germany. He doesn't even have kids and was probably screaming to himself. The last conversation at the table had deteriorated to a lengthy discussion of how they put the kid to bed, how much milk she drinks in the bottle, how many stories they read and songs they sing, and how it has changed over the last couple of months. I was squeezing Gary's hand under the table, trying to keep from crying out in pain. It was all so self-absorbed.

And as we were leaving (having taken advantage of the first break in the conversation to plead our goodbyes) the dad says, Just so you won't worry, we don't usually keep her up this late.

Gee - thanks for the reassurance. Now I won't have to lie awake tonight worrying. About your child.

(As if I don't have enough concerns with my own three.)

I have nothing against children at dinner parties. But I think there should be a balance - somewhere between children should be seen and not heard and making a toddler the focal point of the evening.

And these two need to learn that the sun and moon do not revolve around their child; we all think our children are special.

When we came home, we went upstairs and kissed our three wonderful daughters, all of whom were asleep by this time. And I racked my brains, hoping upon hope that we were never such obnoxious parents as those two.