That's AUNT GOOFBALL, Thank You Very Much

Somehow I have gone from being a cute, sassy, queen-of-it-all to being a giant gooberhead in a single week. I expect geekdome from The Professor; I really didn't think I'd be joining in at such a young age.

I tried to figure out when it started. I think it may have been last week. SuperHubby was unable to take Spanky and some buddies to see I Am Legend for Spanky's birthday. I figured that wouldn't be an issue. I really wanted to see the movie myself, so I invited The Professor to join me and we just punted. No biggie.

Until I mentioned it to Spanky. Apparently it was okay for Daddy to sit in the same auditorium as the boys, and it was fine if Uncle Larry sat in the same ROW as them, but when I mentioned I was going, the child thought I was smoking crack. I finally had to promise to merely fork over about $100 for their tickets and snacks, then act like I didn't know them for the next 2 hours. I could feel the love.

Then on Monday of this week, SuperHubby's younger sister had a baby. For those keeping track at home, this makes me an aunt for the 11th time. As of a year and a half ago, I am also a great-aunt. Now I realize that the major factor in this is SuperHubby and his weirdo family. There are 5 kids, with a 17-year age gap between the first and the last, which makes for a lot of nieces and nephews. With the Salleys, 2 kids was a big family, so I'm still a little amazed that I have 11 little people calling me Aunt Lori.

Then last night came. The final straw. My oldest nephew from my brother and sis-in-law was in his school's middle school play. Actually, he was the main character. Other than Annie, but I think that was just an oversight. They play really should have been called Daddy Warbucks and some Random Orphan. But I digress.

So we go to the play, he's amazing, and everything seems fine. I mean, I teared up a few times during the play, but I regained my composure pretty well. Plus it was dark, which always helps when you're about to embarrass yourself.

After the play, we all gathered around to tell him how great he did. And somehow, at that moment in my life, I went from totally cool to totally NOT in 0.4 seconds flat. I started bawling like a baby. I couldn't talk. Poor kid was patting me on the back and telling me it was okay and probably wondering what the heck my problem was. I tried to compose myself and just lost it again completely. I'm misting up even now.

I think the problem started when he allowed me to hug him. In public. He's 14, so that alone explains that statement. But somehow, when I watched him on that stage and then later told him how proud I was of him, the only image I could conjure up in my mind was April 8, 1994, when SuperHubby and I drove to Columbia and I held my brother's hours-old firstborn child.

Our kids are growing up. Spanky is already 13 and FrogBoy will be 10 in June. What I wouldn't give for a magic pill that would allow them to stay little forever.