Heavenly favors and goodie bags, anyone?

Today we chat about something as delightful as finding an extra fry at the bottom of a McDonald's bag. Only way cuter. Picture a tiny, squishy, giggly bundle of joy whom everyone claims you have given the nose of that great uncle from across the state. You know the one—always off schedule in visiting and somehow perennially has a new pair of socks to gift you. Oh, ecstasy.

When a new little one arrives, doesn't it feel like the universe has slipped you a surprise goodie bag? Life's pleasant disruption of normalcy, wrapped in blankets and topped with an unmatchable charm. Bewilderment spirals, responsibilities pile, yet positivity worms through, intent on leaving you feasting on merriment.

Neat trick, life.

As balloons scatter across the house and every nook masquerades as a spillway of cherished gifts, the sentiment of gratitude swells. It's apparent. This is an essence unparalleled, an occasion textbook for ethereal celebration - clouds would dance too if they could.

First things first: Angel wing cookies.

If you haven’t tried them for a Heaven Sent Baby Shower, well, you've steered wrong. Essentially, they're hugs sculpted in sugar and perfection. Each bite envelops you in a confectionery embrace, whispering to your taste buds that heaven indeed gazes after us terrestrials tenderly. You know, if heaven had a bakery, these would be bestseller stock. A world-class ambiance in glazed, golden largess—that victorious treat that waltzes through social circles like a candidate hellbent on wholesomely grilling hearts on its campaign. They're good for your soul, scientifically certified.* (Disclaimer: scientific part yet wildly unproven. But we believe!).

Your surroundings busily buzz, laden with cherubic symbols of angelic reverence and perpetually bouncing gleams of little curls. Snacks subject to feverish inspection by pint-sized gourmands circle, approving clan-adjourned recipes subjectively dubbed baby-perfect. Lost amidst folklore, close calls, and one's disregard for any semblance of order, we indulge in warmth's inexplicable tether.

Another morsel past, contemplation mingles with fragrances fantastic enough to sanctify any olfactory landscape—think lavender bathbomb level but with crumbs.

In the cacophony, marvel spreads ambiance thicker than clotted cream. Even Off-Key Aunts (who knew only guttural cats catering to monotone decibels) somehow cajole every ear won over, humming melodically contrary to tradition whispering ‘hap-happiest birthday’. Regular chart-toppers, transcending spheres of known human chants, a kazoo’s harmonious triumph rivalling concertos past.

By day's close, slippers amble through an aft soiree of alleged restful remarks and darling wishes from pinions anew; thank you, tiny treasure from heavenly above, lest we plummet weary through parenthood's precocious path ahead.

Resolutions: Embrace chaos, sprinkle lavenders, count stars in brimming skyways reflecting what hitherto resided unknown—blessings burgeoned through fortune's blessed favor and invaluable treasures yet perceived in delicious hues unforeseen!

Are angel wing cookies awaiting your kiss atop sticky oblivion? Heaven assuredly extends its encore through quite generous act: delivery gratis, sold by those acknowledging eternal mirth wrapped sweetly amongst joyous quintessence peculiarly swaddled.

Merry inviting party travels, awaited akin celestial mirth followed destiny amongst tales tot's prelude ready during such heavenly contrived entourages known hereafter inviting pure bliss constructed sprightly oneofakind! ✨

*(Certain claims surely subjective, non-peer reviewed.)