Earlier this week, the Carter phone networks were inundated with exclamations of "I'm an uncle!" followed by virtual fainting actions. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go watch 7 Brides for 7 Brothers. And then practice fainting on the couch and in the swimming pool for good measure.)
On December 5, two of the most perfect little boys made their entrance into this world, Jaxson and Bronx. (I guessed one of the names right! Even though I spelled it wrong . . . )
It used to annoy me just a tad when my friends, cousins, and Facebook acquaintances would brag about how cute their nieces and nephews were. Yes, I get that babies are cute and all, but I'm pretty sure all of these braggers would be saying the same thing even if the babies looked like trolls. A little biased, yes?
However, I won't be rolling my eyes at those proud aunts and uncles anymore. As a newly inducted aunt myself, it is impossible for me to not boast a bit. Every aunt and uncle has a divine right to be biased about their nieces and nephews; we simply cannot help ourselves. So yeah, I get it now.
For the record, though, my nephews really are the most precious human beings I have ever laid eyes on. Just sayin'.
I'm not sure how I feel about the title "aunt" though. I kind of feel like I have to sprout batty gray hair and start hobbling around with a cane. Not sure why I feel that way, seeing as none of my aunts are like that and becoming an aunt isn't an indicator of age (heck, some girls are aunts before they're even born). It's a title I'm proud to have, but I think I'd rather it not be included with my name for the time being . . . Kind of like how older women don't like to be called "Mam" because it makes them feel older than 25, you know?