Sassy and Auggie are restless. All through pre-dinner oos and aahs, they would twist in my brother’s arms and gurgle and poop. Much like any 5 week old baby twin girls would do. Funny thought, (to me or any other sci fi geek, anyway): tiny infants cry a lot like the chest bursting Alien. Shrill, sharp air across munchkin sized fresh vocal chords. Eeeerrrriiieeeeeah!<\/p>\n

I digress. <\/p>\n

My brother Dan, his husband, Mark and SharkBoy and I have been invited over for a small dinner at my other brother, Mike and Morwyn’s house. Because Dan and Mark have to go back to England in a couple days we probably all won’t be in the same room again like this for a long time, so despite all of us being bone dead tired (Mike and Morwyn especially – twins!) we gather. <\/p>\n

I can’t explain the fatigue I’m feeling while nursing a beer on my brother’s couch. Work wasn’t so much a drain, as it was a challenge. One manager came to my cube and wasn’t aware of my father’s passing. He cheerfully asked if my “time away” was fun, assuming I was on holiday. I didn’t bother correcting him. The owner of the company stuck his head over my cube wall and offered bizarre condolences that only he could offer. By the end of the day I had explained and retold a family-guarded version of the last week’s events to about a half dozen people. <\/p>\n

The girls are fussing. They’re up, they’re down, they’re crying, they’re quiet. Dan has Sassy in his arms and is successfully, slowly getting her quieted down. Auggie is another matter, she’s found her voice. Mike and Morwyn are snatching food between baby yelps. The conversation becomes pointed:<\/p>\n

Mike: (while walking around, shifting baby in arm to shoulder to arm) This is kind of funny…
\nAuggie: Reeeeearrrrrh!
\nMorwyn: Almost ironic… (she’s huffing food down so she can get back to being a mom)
\nSassy: eeeeemmf.
\nMike: Yeah because here they are being all loud and stuff…
\nAuggie: Eeeeh.
\nMorwyn: …And we were hoping to ask you to be their godparents.<\/p>\n

I sit in stunned silence. I look at Dan across the table. He’s smiling. I look at SharkBoy and he’s got the exact look on his face as I do.<\/p>\n

Wut?<\/p>\n

Morwyn: What do you think, SharkBoy? Is this something…?
\nAuggie: eeEEEEeee!<\/p>\n

We just sat there. We didn’t look at each other. Someone expresses their desire for you to be the responsible guardian of their children in case of something awful happening and we just sat there.<\/p>\n

I learn later that SharkBoy thought my brother and sister in law were addressing Dan and I. Hence the lack of reaction. When he realized they were including him, he was stunned.<\/p>\n

My excuse was that I had just gone through a week of crying. There was nothing left in the well. Not even for tears of joy. There was nothing I could muster to show my appreciation, my joy. I just sat there. We both did. To Mike and Morwyn I am sure it looked like we were hedging on the question. <\/p>\n

DeadRobot: (pause) I. Say… Yes.
\nSharkBoy: Yes!<\/p>\n

We’re sharing duties with Morwyn’s sister, who arrived later and when told, had a much more animated reaction (tears, hugs, peals of laughter, etc). I saw this and thought instantly, Oh crap, we didn’t express any kind of joy…!<\/em><\/p>\n

In the cab home, SharkBoy voices what I’m thinking: “I’m really touched. But I just couldn’t get excited when I realized they were talking to me! Not that I don’t want to do it, it’s just a bomb after a week of emotional carpet bombing.”<\/p>\n

“Don’t feel guilty. I’m sure they understand.”<\/p>\n

Later, in bed, we talk about bringing the girls to DisneyWorld. I fall asleep in mid-sentence.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sassy and Auggie are restless. All through pre-dinner oos and aahs, they would twist in my brother’s arms and gurgle and poop. Much like any 5 week old baby twin girls would do. Funny thought, (to me or any other sci fi geek, anyway): tiny infants cry a lot like the chest bursting Alien. Shrill, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":430,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9WjY-1Il","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6593"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/430"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6593"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6593\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6593"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6593"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6593"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}