The Thing About Being an Aunty

So it's not really "news", especially for those that know me personally, but I am about to become an Aunt. My beloved big brother and his beautiful wife will be welcoming their firstborn into this enormous world in just two short weeks. Or sooner, if baby has anything to say about it. What a silly comment, considering that newborns (unborns, especially) don't say much in the first place. Never mind, you know what I mean. 


In any case, I am about to become a very proud, glowing Aunt of a perfect little boy. Of course, I've had a good seven-or-so months to ponder this new phase of life, and am pleased to announce that not only am I going to glow and be proud, but I am also going to be the very best Aunt that this world has to offer. 


The thing about being an Aunt is that, much like the child's grandparents, you get to indulge the child without the drag of being a disciplinarian. The difference is that while Grandparents are utterly and endlessly lovable to their grandchildren, Aunties and Uncles are ultra-cool and super-awesome... up until the child reaches about twelve years old. At which point he discovers a mind of his own, and at which point he will begin to disown his family one by one. (Except the Grandparents, of course) 


And so, I've been working on my game plan, on how I'm going to be the best Aunt on the planet, and hopefully prolong my state of awesomeness by a few years perhaps. 


For example, Grandparents give their grandchildren cake and marshmallows and Smarties, which is all very well as far as good old-fashioned sugar highs go. However, I plan on giving him Dracula-teeth-sweets and sour worms. Not only that, but I will ensure that I, too, have some vampire-teeth of my very own, and together we will wreak havoc and terror on the world with our terrifying terribleness. 

I am also not only going to give him his favourite cookies, but we will actually make his favourite cookies, in my very own kitchen. I will ensure that by the end of the exercise, he is covered head to toe with flour and sugar, and giggling like a girl at the silliness of it all. 


I then plan on carrying this giggling sack of potatoes over my shoulder and tossing him into a warm bath filled with bubbles, rubber ducks, and action men, and letting him play until his hands and feet are pruned beyond recognition. We will make soap-bubbles the way my Nana used to make for me. Bath times will be... Epic. 


Judging by the sweets and cookies, you may think I'm going to fatten this child up good and proper, right? No, no, of course not. I'm also going to set him free in our garden. I'll be the Aunt that kicks off my shoes and runs with him. We won't run anywhere in particular, we'll just run and run, until the great, big imagination in that adorable little head of his comes up with some kind of game to be incorporated into our run. And we'll dig up worms, lots of them, into wriggling piles of fun and awfulness. 

And so it goes on... All I want to do is give this little boy as many reasons as possible to love living in this great big world. In light of all that parents do to nurture, protect and love their children, it's the very least that any Aunt can do. 


So, yes. It is possible that I will indeed be the best Aunt ever. Or come darn close in trying.