Last weekend I went to a baby shower for my "lil' sis."
I call her my little sister because I adopted her in high school when she was a freshman and I was a senior, to protect her from the older mean girls and horny boys. And at Virginia Tech, I told all the bouncers that she was my little sister so they'd let her into the bar underage.
But no more under- or over-age drinking for her. She got knocked up by her hubby.
This makes for baby shower #24 that I've attended in my lifetime. I"ll be an aunt for the 6th time over.
That is better than any birth control on the market. I'm kidding ... kinda. Perhaps my four sisters were born with biological clocks and I wasn't.
At said baby showers, I've been made to play games that require me to wear maternity underwear, eat baby food, and inspect diapers to guess which smashed up chocolate bar is in it. And in listening to talk of how Bye Bye Baby is more overwhelming than Ikea, and the necessity of products like "pee-pee tee-pees" to prevent from getting urine shot into your eye when changing baby boy's diapers, it just doesn't make motherhood seem all that inviting.
Power to all you mothers out there — you have the toughest and most admirable duty in life. Being a mom is a job, and a hard one at that.
I like being an aunt. I have the joys of being around children, but can give them back when the pee starts coming at my eyeball.