Have you heard the news?!!

Uh, yeah, this is big news people.

So big that I can't even really think straight.

PREGNANT!!

No, you fools.

Not me. I'm not even in a "we".

I'm talking about my brother.

And his girlfriend, obviously.

They told me Saturday evening.

Greg insisted that Momma and I go out to eat with them.

Even though we had already eaten we agreed to ride along.

Besides Greg got me food anyways.

Tennessee whiskey cake and berry/passion fruit tea? 

Yes, please.

Anyways, he showed me a picture on his phone of a (+) prego test.

I immediately went on the defense.

"Umm, sorry dude, it's not mine".

To which he replied "no, it's Chris'".

"Oh really? Who's is it"?

"Uh, mine".

Yep. Not only was I wildly inappropriate, but then I spit tea everywhere and almost choked to death.

ALMOST.

Then I was all- Can I go into the delivery room?

Because- HELLO. Curiosity.

But she said no. And that's probably a good thing.

Why? Because I would look like those dudes that went through simulated labor.

Don't ask.
That got me thinking to.
What if the baby is really ugly?
I can feel your judgy eyes on me.
Quit it. I'm being serious.

I know that I'll love the gross/slimy little wrinkled blob regardless.
But seriously, what if it's ugly?
I can't possibly lie convincingly enough to get out of that one.
I will forever be known as the aunt that called the baby ugly.

And refused to hold it, because BABIES CAN SMELL MY FEAR.
It's like a sixth sense they have or something.
Not cool.
You laugh now.
But it's the truth.

Once again I can feel your judgy eyes up on me.
But whatevs.
I know the truth.
That kid on Jerry Maguire was wrong.
It's not just dogs and bees.
It's babies, too.

The usual stuff about babies doesn't bother me.
I worked in a nursing home for five years.
I did my job as a CNA and assisted with wound care.
Plus, a lot of other gross stuff such as tubes.

Tubes in places that you wouldn't think they would put a tube.
I digress.
So, I'm good with all of that.
However, I have fears when it comes to babies.

Possibly irrational fears.
But fears none the less.
What if i drop it? Huh? What then?
If the baby doesn't appear to be hurt do I tell?
Or do I chalk it up to a youthful indiscretion?
Call it a day? What happens if the kid grows up to be an idiot?
No one will know why he/she grew up to be such an idiot.
But I'll know and always wonder if damage was done when I dropped it.
But what if I drop it and tell and nothing's wrong?
That then? Then I'm just gonna be known as "the baby dropper".
And let's face it.
Shady eyes will be all up on me.
I can feel them already.

And you know usually I don't care about any of that.
In the words of the Jersey Shorians- YOLO!
But when it comes to my own niece/nephew I would like to not be blamed for ruining it.
I mean, really?

And that's just one of my fears.
What about the rest of it?
Poop? Whatevs, I got that.
Puke? I'm a pro.
Snot? I am the champion.
Not letting babies get a hold of things that could be potentially life threatening? Iffy.
I don't know what babies can and can't have.
I mean the obvious things, sure.
I'm not a moron.
But did y'all know that babies can't have PB, shellfish, or berries?
Not until they're older.
Personally, I had no clue.

Whatevs. I tend to conquer things that I set my mind to.
Right? A little back up here, please.
This is scary.
And I'm not even the one having a baby.
I can't imagine what that fear is like.
It must be horrible.
Oh God, what if I get it's butt stuck in the highchair or something?

Great. One more thing to worry about.
I cannot babysit under any circumstances.
I might draw on the baby's face or something.
As long as I don't give it ink poisoning, that's ok.
Right?

What if they name it something stupid?
Will I be able to look past that?
I mean, I can't contain my disdain when people name their children- Nevaeh.
Sorry by the way if your name is Nevaeh.
Or you have a kid with that name.
I just think it's dumb.
Like, really dumb.

Or Crystal Chandelier.
Stripper.
I don't want my niece/nephew to have a stripper name.
I just want to spoil it.
And love it.
And hopefully be the best aunt that any one person could ever be.
Why am I so nervous about this?
Y'all wish me luck. Fingers crossed.
I feel like Russell Crowe in Gladiator right now.
Or Mel Gibson in Braveheart.
Or Channing Tatum in The Eagle. Scratch that- Jamie Bell in The Eagle.
You catch my drift.

By the way.
Who doesn't love a good baby meme?
I mean memes are great within themselves.
But baby or kid memes?
Yes ma'am. The sandbox kid is my favorite.
But they're all pretty cool.
Sorry. I'm getting off subject again.
Notice that pattern much?
It happens to the best of us, I reckon.
By the way I wasn't supposed to tell anyone.
But I can't help it. Oopsy?!