My friend Awesome rang me up recently and said she had something big to ask me.
Seeing as she's already married to her fella and has a 2 year old with him I was pretty sure it wasn't a proposal.
What it was though was this:
Would I be willing to be made the guardian of their child in the event that they both died?
Wow.
Taking into account this would only come about in the unlikely and really horrible event that they both got knocked out of the picture I had to consider the idea seriously because if I didn't look at it as if it were something that might one day happen I wouldn't be making the decision based on useful ideas.
He's a pretty awesome little dude and I definitely would want to make sure he was taken care of.
So it was time to run through the basic list.
Would I be willing and ready to:
make the space in my home?
make the time in my life?
make sure he got a proper education?
look after him when he was sick?
support him trying out sports and hobbies?
teach him the stuff he needs to know to get on?
make sure he didn't grow up to be an ass?
go through all the uncertainty and terror and heartbreak that whole package would bring?
Essentially the answer was 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarghhhaaaaaarrghhghghghhhgh yes'.
I mean sure the idea is sort of terrifying, not only because it would only come to pass if something really awful happened, because getting catapulted into parenthood without getting to go through the beginner levels would leave you scrambling to catch up.
Like if someone decided to run through the development levels of a game you've never played before and then hand the controller over for the boss fight.
But like Awesome said, one of the reasons they thought of me because I have a big-ass family would support me and make sure he was OK.
So I said yes.
And then immediately started planning diet plans and exercise regimes and defensive driving courses for his parents.
Because he is a rad little dude and I want to be a part of his life for as long as I'm around.
But I also kind of like his parents and want to keep them.
So yay for the huge, touching declaration of trust in me but double-yay for the idea that it will never be necessary because his mum and dad will be there to bring him up, love him, and give him the flicks around the ear that he is sure to deserve along the way.
Battle stations everyone!
This is not a drill!
I repeat, this is not a drill!
This Friday coming you am going to be left in charge of a baby!
A real, live human baby!
6 months old. Male. Weapons-grade dimples!
His parents are having a relaxing night off and they are entrusting you with their adorable offspring!
You can do this!
You know how to change him!
You know how to feed and burp him!
You have an excellent track record of getting him to stop crying!
The way he falls asleep 9 out of 10 times he rests his head on your boobs those puppies may as well be soaked in chloroform!
You can do this!
Wait, how many bottles should he be allowed a night?
What sort of intervals!?
Draw me a diagram of how he is supposed to be tucked in at night, include measurements and tensioning requirements for tucking in the blanket!
He's teething now, how often do you need to apply bonjella?
How long do you leave his teething ring in the freezer before it will soothe him?
When would you need to use baby panadol?
What if he won't stop crying?
What if it turns out that he is The Chosen one and I need to protect him from potential assassins?
What if the zombies rise when I have him?
Do we have a rendezvous point?
Because I'd be taking him to my first staging post to keep him safe unless you have a better defensible position in mind.
I take babysitting responsibilities very seriously.
Very seriously indeed.
If anyone else wants to celebrate their plans to be happily entangled for the rest of their lives they will have to offer me bribes or hold the celebrations in my backyard!
Look, I know that people face far more complicated and serious dilemmas every day and that I'm a huge crybaby but I get a bit stressed about other people's exciting days going right and like them far apart so I can help, can go months without any big events or demands on my time cropping up and then this happened...
Saturday was the day of my cousin's wedding - aw! *cue ecstatic aunts!*
It was also the day of my mate Awesome's engagement party - aw! *cue overexcited friends!*
Both events were on at almost exactly the same time... in two different towns... two hours apart... *cue freaking out and screaming!*
Crud! Crud! Crud! Crud! Crud!
I didn't want to miss either event but going to both was going to be a bugger.
Not to mention I was in charge of organising the cake and signature book for the engagement party from a third and completely unrelated town and was doing the Prayers of the Faithful during my cousin's wedding ceremony.
Things sort of shilly-shallied about for a few weeks leading up to the wedding/engagement party weekend.
The cake was fine.
The people at the shop decided that the picture that was to go on top of the cake was too dark and wouldn't turn out.
I found a new picure.
They were no longer accepting pictures by email, the picture had to be printed on photo paper and brought in personally.
Oh and the day you leave work early and drive an hour to bring the photo in we will have closed early.
Eventually I got the bloody cake squared away, found a dress for the wedding, hand-cut 80 pieces of ornate cardboard for the engagement party signature book and bought metallic ink pens and badass stickers for them to decorate them with, explained the situation to both occasion-stressed women without being torn a new one, looked at transport options and then began Operation EVERYBODY STOP TELLING ME THAT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! WHAT ARE YOU A BUNCH OF QUITTERS!?*
Step One. Wake up, get preliminary dressed, go pick up cake.
Step Two. Drop off cake with another friend, hand over cards, pens and stickers.
Step Three. Drop car off at the train station, get sister's fiancé to pick me up and drive us back to the house.
Step Four. Collect clothes and sundries for the wedding, herd entire family into cars and drive for two hours.
Step Five. Get changed into wedding clothes at a relative's house, herd everyone back into cars, have argument about best way to get to church, misidentify church, have another argument, find the right church, get everyone out of the car.
Step Six. Find the other cousin who I am doing the readings with, find a seat, sit down and make chitchat.
Step Seven. All agree she looks lovely and he is probably not a serial killer and can be let into the family, realise the priest is mental as he starts rambling about changing the wording of 'what God has joined let no man put asunder' to gender-neutral because 'people are running off with all sorts these days', ruins part of the service by trying to make comments addressed to the the groom and bride separately gender-neutral and then forgets to ask the bride to say her vows before being reminded by the wanting to be happy couple.
Step Eight. Deliver prayers without saying a swear or making any embarrassing noises, agree everything went very well except for the mental priest.
Step Nine. Get back to the house, change again, drag my father away from all the cheerfully enthusiastic family shouting, say goodbye to my parents as they happen to be flying to Italy after the reception, drive to a train station, get a bit lost, use logic to find track, use track to find station, get out of the car, leg it through construction works, find ticket counter, buy ticket, get to platform at the same time as the train, get train, collapse.
Step Ten. Spend two hours thinking 'this is stupid, if we had teleporters I would be there by now'.
Step Eleven. Arrive at station, get changed in the bathroom, get into car cleverly left at station earlier, drive to engagement party, spend the whole drive hoping I hadn't confused the location with another.
Step Twelve. Arrive in time to preside over the revelation of the cake, be crowned Dëity Mønarch of Cake and join the party.
Step Thirteen. Help pack up, drive people out to the bottle-o for some travellers as I'm the only person who hadn't been drinking**, drive back to Awesome's place and spend the rest of the evening*** having a drink, eating chips and watching Wayne's World and Wayne's World 2.
Step Fourteen. Finally relax and realise that I've enjoyed myself.
*sigh*
...
OK, OK, I'll probably come to your bloody wedding/whatever but at least have it in an area well served by public transport!
Remember! No teleporters yet!
PS. An engagement party might not seem very important compared to a wedding but it is going to be a few years before Awesome and her fella can afford the wedding and what with all the going out of her way she does for other people she deserved something nice dammit!
*I'll be the first to admit it doesn't really roll off the tongue...
You ever feel the weight of responsibility pressing down upon you?
That terrible feeling of accountability and the fear of failure?
The careful balance between doing too little or too much?
Knowing that if you mess things up it will be visible and real and you will have to deal with it?
I'm there right now.
But soon it'll be over and I will be able to put it all behind me.
Because tomorrow my workmate comes back from their holiday, their bloody potplants are still alive and they better damn well still be that way tomorrow morning.
God help them if they ever ask me to mind their children.
