Every couple of nights, I call my sister for the Fetus Update. See, I learned last week that I am going to be an aunt and I'm taking this new role very seriously.
"How are you feeling?"
"Are you fat yet?"
"Are you selling pictures of your bare baby bump to perverts on the Internet? I bet there's a lot of money in that."
She takes it all with very good humor and sends me camera-phone images of our November baby, and promises that I'll be the first to know when she plumps up (if you have a skinny-minny sister, you understand). She lets me name and rename the Fetus, depending on the day's events. Gidget. Olive. Oliver. Olly Olly Oxen Free. And I ask her over and over to tell me about hearing the heartbeat. Which she does.
The lord (and the Internet) knows I'm not exactly ready to be a mother, but from what I can tell, there are much less stringent requirements to being an aunt. In fact, I think it's kind of a prerequisite that you have intentions to coddle and at least mildly corrupt the offspring of a sibling if you're to achieve any sort of real success at it. And me, I was born for this job.
Following in the footsteps of my own very accomplished Aunt V, I will send the coolest, most obnoxious birthday gifts. Things that make noise, need batteries, require assembly. Board games with really small pieces. I'm fully prepared to celebrate half-birthdays just to fit it all in. I will sing subversive limericks and teach him/her to twist its tongue and say "apple," just as soon as it learns how to speak.
And when I'm not busy being a smart ass, I'll nibble fat baby thighs, bury my nose in that warm sweet spot at the back of the neck, plant loud exaggerated kisses on its belly. Sing it songs that it will hear in pictures - s
ing the one about the cow in the wagon - the same as my mother did.
I will not knit, or nag, or be tolerant of back talk. I will have treats in my purse - right next to the handiwipes. I'll bestow nicknames, pretend to like knock-knock jokes and amusement parks, and pack irresponsibly unhealthy picnics to take to the zoo. Make up wild, ridiculous stories. And I will watch my mouth, because a kid should really learn all the best swears from his grandpa.
"Will you come visit when the baby is still real small?" she asked me on the phone one night.
"Are you crazy? I'll be in the damn hospital while it's being born, " I said. "Visit... when it's small... you've got to be kidding me."
"You will?!"
"Yeah...but in the waiting room where none of that nasty stuff is going on."
"Good."
I am
so ready for this gig.
译文:
我的新工作
每隔一天晚上我就会打电话给我的姐姐向她询问胎儿的情况。看，上周我就已经得知我就要做阿姨了。我非常认真的对待我即将成为阿姨这件事。
“你感觉怎么样呢？”
“你现在已经变肥了吗？”
“你有没有把你怀孕小肚子的裸相卖到网上去呢？我敢打赌这一定可以赚到很多钱。”
她对此感到很高兴，并且发过了我她那十一个月大的胎儿的在她腹中样子的照片。她答应我将会是第一个知道她将会在什么时候变丰满的人。（如果你有一个瘦得像米诺鱼一样的姐妹，你就会理解。）她让我根据在最兴旺的日子里发生的事件一次又一次的给胎儿命名。吉德格特、奥利夫、奥利佛，奥利，奥利，公牛自由！同时我一次又一次地让她告诉我关于听心跳的感觉。她照做了。
上帝（和网络）知道我并不打算成为一个妈妈，但是我想说的是，成为阿姨所需要的要求并不少。事实上，我认为这是一种先决条件。如果你已经有这种经验，你知道你会很不自觉的去宠爱或者说是会很适度地去影响你的姐妹的后代。而我就是为这份工作而生的。
受到我那多才多艺的阿姨的影响，我会送给孩子最冷淡的最让人讨厌的生日礼物。就是那些会发出噪音，需要电池的和需要装配的礼物。比如那些用很小块东西组成的用棋盘玩的游戏。我会为了庆祝不完整的生日而做好充分的准备而单单是为了腾出时间。我会唱极有破坏性的五行打油诗并叫她或他动动舌头念“苹果”，这是在他刚开始学讲话的时候。
当我不忙着成为一个聪明的笨蛋的时候，我会轻轻地咬胖嘟嘟的小孩的大腿，把我的鼻子埋在小孩脖子后面那暖暖的最佳的听音位置，而且会在它的腹部那给他一个超响的超夸张的吻。同时我会给他唱我妈妈以前给我唱的歌---歌唱那只在货车上的母牛，这些歌当人们在听的时候会联想到很美的画面。
我对顶嘴不会皱眉头，不会生气，或者是容忍。我会流眼泪到我的钱包里面，虽然旁边就有可以擦眼泪的手帕。我接受昵称，并装作喜欢敲敲打打的玩笑和游乐园，并且会打包不负责任的不健康的野餐去公园吃。除此以外，我会编很疯狂的，很荒谬的故事。我还是会注意我的话语，因为一个小孩需要从他的爷爷那学到最上乘的咒语。
“你会在小孩还很小的时候来看我吗？”有一天晚上她在电话里这样问我。
“你疯了吗？在你快要生的时候我就会在那可恶的医院出现。”我说。
“去见你…在他还很小的时候..你一定是在开玩笑。”
“你会吗？”
“是的，但是是在没有任何肮脏的东西的候诊室。”
“那太好了。”
我已经为这场演唱会做好了充分的准备。