Before the year is out, I will be a biological evil Auntie, rather than the "ties-of-friendship-rather-than-blude" evil Auntie I have been so far. The parents of the future be-evilled niece or nephew have been practising their parenting skills on the dog, so I am generally optimistic about the whole business of keeping the infant off the sofa and training him/her not to climb up the stairs, chew the bottom step to matchsticks or make messes on the living room carpet.
The dog has also been generous enough to allow me to practise my own evil aunting skills, which in her view generally involves letting her sprawl with pr0n-star abandon all over the older bro's fatboy (posh beanbag) revealing all sorts of Overly Frank Truths (it's a girl! it's a boy! later this year - it's a filled nappy!) to the world and shedding a good quarter of her body hair. Meanwhile I watch DVDs.
But while in the car on the way to the mouth of Wey this weekend with tricky, we were chatting about this and decided that in honour of the occasion I should probably up the evil quotient somewhat. We idly debated the possibilities of motorbikes, red leather, tattoos and a mysteriously untraceable smell, but in the end came round to the idea that the crowning glory could only be provided by my er... crowning glory.
Maybe it was the giddiness brought on by the pending weekend at the Great British Seaside. Maybe it was the prospect of greasy, paper-wrapped heaven in the form of the best fish and chips on the south coast. Maybe it was the Annual Trawler Race. Maybe it was the monotony and dull back pain induced by the Great British Bank Holiday Series of Traffic Jams. Maybe it was the ipod-wielding genius of tricky himself, and his selection of finest tunes. A combination of nostalgia and pop is a deadly thing.
But five and a half hours later, we poured ourselves onto the grey and windy beach utterly convinced that the ultimate badge of evil auntieness, the towering edifice that is the iron badge of the truly Great Aunt is the rock-solid, weatherproof, waterproof, wellie-proof beehive.
I'm off to find the lacquer and half a country cob.
7 comments:
I've been an auntie for a good 8 months now, though with far less emphasis on the evil. More a highly mischievous and socially rebellious auntie. (Though there's still time, the child is young. His father has no idea what I will be teaching the spawn when he comes to visit.) It's the very best thing in the world. Enjoy!
The beehive is the only way forward. One of such mountainous, towering vastness that Amy Winehouse will gasp in awe and jealousy.
A delight to bombard you with Sophie Ellis-Bextor all the way through the traffic. I got back in half the time, you know.
Congratulations on the impending auntiness.
As a parent I feel compelled to add that true evilness is measured in quantity of toys that make horrible 'music' at a volume sure to wake the dead and all of the neighbors. Preferably toys that require large numbers of batteries and which do not have volume control buttons. Evil aunties always provide extra batteries at time of gift giving, ensuring the child many hours of headache inducing play.
sallyacious, thank you, mischievous and socially rebellious plans sound perfect.
tricky, thanks again for the lift, tunes and inspiration (will add links later, promise). am also unsurprised. we made it to bristol airport in less than 2 hours.
bookwormom, thank you too. I'm thinking drum kits - what do you think? Friends with small children also had one of those electronic keyboard things that played beeping fragments of Christmas tunes. I've noted the name of the manufacturer.
Congrats on the impending Auntie-Hood dearie! I must admit, I adore my nephew, and often wish I could take him home... well at least until he starts crying that is.
Drum kits are great!! Also electronic musical instruments. LOL :)
Hi karen, thanks for the congrats. Think I need to develop my crying radar a bit more, come to think of it.
And bookwormom... what about an electronic drum kit? Hmmmm....
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