It seems the biggest change that's happening around Chez West is that my parents tell me I'm going to be a big brother soon. Apparently, this is something to be excited about, according to them. I wasn't sure what all this new job entails and it seemed like such a big deal. I felt like I was going to undertake more than I could handle (dubious, I know, but a guy needs to know his limitations) It was time to ask for help. But, who could I turn to? Who would have all the answers to all of life's burning questions? Where could I find such a massive repository of knowledge and insight about this most critical of questions without judgment? What singular person on this planet could walk me through life's big conundrums and solve all of my major problems? The answer to that was clear:
The Internet.
But, how to get access to it? My plan was as elegant as it was simple: Wait for Badger Face to open his computer, bring him a nice yummy cup of Goldfish crackers (laced with a prescription strength laxative), slip on a gas mask, and wait.
Worked like a charm.
I punched into the friendly search engine on the screen (that will not get mentioned here until they pay me endorsement fees), the words "Big Brother". After an exhaustive search of 2 minutes, I have deduced 2 possible job descriptions:
1. My parents are going to enroll me in a TV reality show, in which I am stuck in a house with 11 douchebags and forced to humiliate myself for cash or,
2. They are going to give me a foster kid to take care of.
As my parenting skills are not quite to the level of child rearing (although I am a professor emeritus in Baby Studies at Harvard), I can only assume that the former is the case.
Just to verify that I heard correctly, I asked the dog what it meant to be a big brother. She told me that he was always watching us, everything we do, at all times. Now, I may be awesome, but that's a little too much responsibility for me. It was then that the bearded one came out of the bathroom, reeking of shame and messy diaper. He asked me if I was ready to have a new baby in the house and be a big brother to it. Then, I understood.
I am to teach this child the ropes. I need to help him not make the mistakes that I have made.
This morning, for instance, I accidentally (and by that I mean on purpose) grabbed the flat iron while it was on. People should warn babies about hot things! There should be a manual!
So, You've Just Been Born: The Newborn's Guide to Your New Life
1. Don't Panic!
2. Hot things are hot!
3. Cold things are cold!
4. Dogs are evil would-be dictators
5. Hot dogs, however, are yummy
6. Crawling may seem like the best means of transport, but walking is much more efficient
7. Been carried, doubly so
8. You like cheese. You always will. Just give in.
9. Yes, they will babble at you like morons until you give them a complete sentence. Better sooner than later.
10. Crapping in your pants is awesome and the toilet is the devil. (It is fun to flush, though)
11. Wake up in the middle of the night often and as loudly as possible. This makes your parents very happy.
It's a work in progress. It'll be hard to compile a list of everything I've learned in these long 19 months, but I think i can do it before the baby comes. Then I simply have to get the list to the baby before it's born so they can be briefed before coming out of Mommy. It'll be tricky, but I think the best way to do it will be to teach him/her Morse code. I must make a list of what to do before the new kid comes to town. Not the New Kids, though. I've already got my tickets.
1.
2. Teach "Cleatus v2.0" Morse code.
3. Finish book
4. Blog more often
5. Rollover 401(k)
