When I think about my new nephew, I often think of how he’ll see me as he gets older. Will I be the fun aunt? Will I be the smart aunt? Will I be the smartass aunt? Really, I like to think I’m a combination of all these things but I wonder which side he’ll see.
Selfishly, I want him to look forward to seeing me and being around me. Not as if I’m the greatest thing in the world but I’d like to rank maybe less than Santa but more than Grandma. That seems like a good in between place for “fun aunt.”
I have visions of sending him loud toys that drive his parents insane and giving him his first concert tickets. Maybe he’ll call me for advice when he wants to shave his head or when he backs his mom’s car into the mailbox.
Since I’m familiar with the way deep-seeded favortism works (just ask my sister with all her I’m the youngest and oh, look, I was born tactics), I’m starting early. From the time he was in the womb I’ve told my nephew how cool I am. I constantly repeated words like “ice cream” and “no bed time” so he would associate my voice with the idea of everything wonderful. As he gets older, I’ll change these words to things like “tattoo” and “cold, hard cash” so he’ll get the idea that I am the source for everything fun and anti-parent. Sure, his other aunt has a cousin for him to play with but this aunt? This aunt has a Corvette for him to play with.
Take that, girl cousin!
And when his parents get upset because I spoil him, I’ll just remind them that it’s only because I love him so much. Well, that and because they are so completely uncool that I have no choice but to expose him to some of the best things in life. (Some, not all, because some things you can only learn in college. Or, in the bar that’s down the street from your college.)
The way I see it, it’s my duty as the aunt. I would be doing my nephew, and therefore the world, a disservice if I let him go through life believing that his parents knew everything. It’s my job to make sure he knows what fun is. And to make sure he knows he always has a place to go when he wants to run away.
I’ll do my best to only be a good influence but I can’t promise 100% responsibility. I mean, who else is going to buy him his first rock t-shirt?
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