Rhetorical questions of a complicated uncle.

“Uncle”; that word protruded in my head for weeks. It wasn’t only the fact that my friend was bringing a new human being to this complicated world; it was much more than just that. Ana’s pregnancy meant to me the beginning of a new era, a new phase in my life. With the word “uncle” still echoing in my head I realized that I was getting older. Yes, it’s true; when your close friends decide it’s time to get married and have kids it means you are getting older. You go from going out with your friends to not going out at all with your friends because they are busy changing diapers or “dating” other couples. Dating other couples, sincerely people, why do you do that? Isn’t complicated enough to satisfy your partner’s needs that you feel the urge to interact and pretend you are interested in somebody else’s life and ideas? Anyway, that’s not the point. And it was a rhetorical question, so please stop thinking about this.

Where was I? Oh yes, Ana was pregnant, right? Indeed, the fact that I just knew when this baby would be born made me think and think and think a little bit more. You need to know something about me, I daydream, true story. Sometimes I lose sense of time and space while daydreaming, it is my favourite sport. So for the first couple of weeks after knowing that Ana was pregnant I kept daydreaming, I imagined my life as an uncle, a young uncle. I’ll carry this newborn everywhere I went, and people will look at me and would say “Oh look at that beautiful baby and that must be the uncle, what a handsome young man”. I also imagined those hot “ready to commit” women, wondering if I was the dad or just the uncle. I’ll stop and like if I was reading their minds will say “No, wait, I’m just the uncle, and by the way, I’m single”. Am I actually talking about using a baby to revert my lack of luck in relationships so far? Anyway.

Many questions lured through my mind. How would he look like? Will he like me? What will I be able to teach this new person? Silently, I waited, and waited... eight long months, then one day, Doña Elvia, Ana’s mom, called me and said to me “The baby was born yesterday in Auckland”. He was born, he was here, well, not really “here” but somewhere. It’s funny how when I hung up the phone a feeling of solemnity and formality grew inside of me. Thoughts I never had before started running through my mind; “Uncle” thoughts. I felt so, how could I put it? So like a grown up, yes, that’s how I felt. Like when they offer you a drink at the pub and you say “Oh no, I’m driving”, here I felt like “Oh no thanks, my nephew was born today, so...I can’t”. Responsibility, that’s sort of what I felt. Things from how to hold that little baby in my arms will feel to changing nappies.

Note to the reader: Later, when I changed nappies for the first time, I decided I’ll never do that for someone else’s kids. It’s gross. Changing nappies it’s not an event that decides if you are a grown up or still growing, definitely no.

The next day I tried to contact Ana over the phone, I wanted to know how she felt. Later on she shared her feelings with me, and I quote: “You wanted to know how I felt? Really? You want to know how it feels to push and push and push for 30 hours straight and then see how a creature the size of an average watermelon comes out of a cavity the size of a cherry?” Ana at her finest. (I’m not sure about the cherry thing though). Well, at least I didn’t have to listen her complaints about morning sickness.