Registry Redux

Like I said before, The Backyard Groom and I didn't plan on having a registry for about a gazillion different reasons, not the least of which are that many of our guests will be traveling to attend our wedding and we've already lived together for two years. Back in August when I posted, we'd decided if we were going to register at all, we would do a honeymoon registry. Then a few weeks later, we booked a honeymoon that sounds much pricier than it actually is, and I was afraid people might resent contributing to our swanky-sounding trip.

So we hemmed and hawed about if we should do a registry at all until finally we bit the bullet and went the traditional route.

Yes, we went to Macy's and bantered over which spatulas would best flip The Backyard Groom's trademark pumpkin pancakes.

In all honesty, the entire registry process was a little weird to both of us. With only 20 guests, we just wanted to register for a few things, but the lady at the registry desk was having none of that. She told us we should pick at least 50 items. 50? Seriously? We compromised with 35, but even that felt extravagant. And a good portion of those 35 things are small things, like the aforementioned spatula.

Even after the awkwardness of standing in a store with a gun and trying to decide if we really needed nicer sheets, the actual act of telling people where you're registered reaches an entirely different level of awkwardness. Of course, we didn't put the information on our invitations, but when people ask outright where you're registered the subtext of that exchange basically reads as follows:

"You're getting married so we have to buy you something."

"You better get us something good, or we will probably cut you out of our lives FOREVER."

"Where is the list of these mundane things that we are supposed to buy you?"

"Macy's."

Maybe I'm being cynical, but it all makes me feel guilty for picking out a list of gifts I want, like I'm six years old and writing a letter to Santa. When you're a kid, eagerly dog-earing the pages of what you want from the Toys-R-Us catalog is what you do, but as an adult, it just feels strange and selfish, making the entire ordeal more like an exercise in etiquette than giving and receiving a heartfelt gift.

And speaking of heartfelt gifts, I'm also worried that having a registry will discourage the people that might prefer to get us something creative and different, and not on a registry, that they think The Backyard Groom and I might like better, like a Batman cake (I beat y'all to the punch on that one).

So what do you think? Am I a cynic, or does creating a grown-up wish list feel a bit weird to you too?