Expected duties include:
- Offer solace after grandma reveals family secrets that no one needed to know
- Share the burden of knowing these things that no one needed to know
- Protect me from the armourous advances of the foster child (IQ 50) who offers hugs freely in exchange for the opportunity to bump his pelvis against your body
- Provide back rubs to compensate for the four hours I spend on my feet attempting to take that perfect photograph of my nephews engaged in their sport of choice
- Demonstrate endless patience with the children who all want to practice their sporting skills in front of an audience
- Refrain from retching as my cousin explains the process of skinning a beaver. Bonus points for not expressing disgust when he explains his intention of making a king-sized bedspread from the skins.
- Respond with clever retorts when asked about procreating
- Avoid a complicated answer when asked if you are saved and/or believe in Jesus. Bonus points for answering in a way that does not offend my very Christian relatives or cause the children to ask questions that their parents are uninterested in answering.
On the upside, I will not be putting my cold feet on you when we go to bed. I have a heating pad for that.
If you can manage all of the above *and* look at me across the room and understand all that is going through my head at that particular moment, you may just be a keeper.
(Of course, you will also have to find my family marginally charming. If you can’t muster that, at least don’t hold them against me.)