Monday, March 14, 2011

Thing 326 Become a Godfather

Yeah, I know what you're thinking, and yes, this is going to be a ridiculously cheesy blog. Sure just look at the photo up there, you know and I know it's going to be a stupidly sentimental blog. Look at the cute baby dammit. How could it not be?

My sister Ci Ci Doo and her hubby Puc It Out are a smashing couple. They're brilliant altogether, and they've three small little tornadoes that might actually be too cute for words. They've also got Grace. She's too small and wee to be a tornado yet. But if I know her ma and da, she'll be a vocal one when she's a little older.

Something that's been pointed out a few times by sarcastic and altogether not-as-funny-as-they-think-they-are mates: It's my fourth nephew/niece and I've not been chosen as Godfather before. It's because there were lots of outstanding people, including the legendary Thorny Wire to choose from. Plus, I came really close this one time.
By the by, that's me and Ci Ci Doo there. Extra sentimental photo moment. You can't tell because you're reading this and it doesn't come with sounds, but I'm making "aaaaaaaawwwwing" noises as I type. Go on. You know you want to... Everybody: Awwwwww.

So when Ellen was being christened, Puc It Out's brother was to be Godfather, but he got stuck in traffic, so I was asked to step in. Sweet. No sign of the man. I thought, yes, this is my moment. All the kissing up to Ci Ci Doo when I was a small fry (no small jokes please, they're cliches at this point) have paid off. I stood at the altar for about fifteen minutes, thinking it was my moment to shine when The Nice Fella walked into the church. Robbed. Oh well.

Smashing ceremony though. And The Nice Fella is, as his name suggests, a thoroughly awesome chap. Like I say, it's a sentimental blog full of niceness. Everyone's lovely in this blog.
Just look at all the family and the kids in that one. They're everywhere. I'm not going to make you awwww again, but I don't mind if you want to. First of all, I don't know what to do in such ceremonies. I pretty much just stood there waiting for the priest to ask me a question, secretly hoping he wouldn't. It's the same when I'm on a table quiz team. Pick smart people and sit quietly. Lap up plaudits later.

Before you know it, it's all done, and with minimal effort. But for some reason it's different now. Grace was my niece before the ceremony, and still my niece afterwards, but now we've got a tag we both share. It means extra presents for her, and wads of money every time I see her from about the age of four upwards. It also means that I'll be more than an uncle for the rest of her life. I know that both of my Godparents still keep their titles.

As is customary for Irish people, and for me in particular, there was a celebratory pint. At four months old, we all felt Grace was a little young for Guinness, but while her mam and dad took her home, the rest of us toasted her in the local.
Then we had a little party in the house. It was nice... full to the brim with kids, which made it entertaining to say the least, but lots of fun. So from now until the end of my days, I'll be Grace's godfather, and she'll be my godchild. I hope she's not the only one I get to claim for myself, but she'll always be the first.

Here's to you Grace!

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