Saturday, March 29, 2008
An Offer You Can't Refuse
My brother-in-law and his wife, who seem to feel it is their personal mission to add to the already over-populated earth, just had a new baby girl at the beginning of March. They need to go ask the 15 year old at Rite Aid for some rubbers. She is adorable and quiet, the latter of which sets her far apart from their other two toddlers, whom Mr. Pitsberger and I like to call Pebbles and Bam-Bam. I am hoping the new baby turns out more like their teenaged son, who disappears to his room for hours at a time during family functions. I'm not nice, I know it. But you try having an adult conversation in the midst of two swirling cyclones. Good effing luck.
So anyway, I was surrounded by screaming children on Saturday because my BIL and SIL asked me to be the godmother of their new baby. Which is awesome. Brutal honesty, I was touched and honored that they would think of me. In fact, when I got the email, I even cried at work, which is something I do way more often than I should. Way more often.
I had no idea what I was supposed to do. One of Mr. Pitsberger's co-workers suggested I fill my cheeks with cotton balls and say things like, "What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrepectfully?" I was afraid I would have to dress up in glittery wings and wave a wand around, but then I realized that's a fairy godmother.
Turns out, all I had to do was go to the baptism and say "I do" and "I am" and "I will" a whole bunch of times. It kind of reminded me of my wedding. Minus the baby in my arms, of course. I'm white trash, but not that white trash.
Mr. Pitsberger and I were standing in the foyer just after mass, waiting for the church to clear out. As my husband and I waited, Boo Radley's brother in a suit and tie,
comb-over flying all over the place(and we're inside, mind you), walked over and started chatting me up.
"Ah you hair for da baptism?"
"Who get-ting baptized?"
"Mrs. Pitsberger's brother-in-law and wife's baby."
"Oh. You muss be the wife's sister."
"I'm her sister-in-law."
"Oh." At this point he indicates my stomach, which admittedly is not flat as a board but certainly doesn't look like a smuggled basketball and says "And yer havin' one too, right?"
The appalled/enraged look on my face must have told him what a mistake he'd made because he immediately retracted his statement and started stammering that he hadn't meant it like that. And then he ran away. Which is pretty much what I felt like doing.
Side note/fun fact: I've only seen "To Kill a Mockingbird" a few times (they don't make movies like that anymore, I highly recommend it) but I never realized until I searched for that picture that Boo Radley is Robert Duval. That's what I get for fast-forwarding credits.