Yes! I’ve done it, friends. I’ve manipulated my way into a second godmother appointment. Here’s the skinny:
I have 28 nieces and nephews, and thus far, only my twin in California has bequeathed me with the most coveted of all aunt/uncle honors of shepherding her child through this crazy world (by shepherding, I mean Amazoning a birthday gift every September). It’s not really my fault that I’ve only been chosen once; many of my relatives aren’t Catholic or don’t “do” godparents. Also, I’m merely one among many potential worthy adults, with my husband, Doo, having five siblings and me having four. Throw in nine outstanding spouses, and the competition is truly fierce.
And up until this year, I’d believed my hopes of a repeat title to be nonexistent, unless someone decided to go the adoption route (we’re simply getting too old!), But miracle of miracles, one new baby has already arrived, and another is due in November. Here’s where I focused my attention and formulated a sure-proof plan to sway my youngest sister: A subversive, yet obvious, “Pick me! Pick me!”
I volunteered to drive two hours to her house and paint the nursery! It had been on her to-do list for a while but managing a 6- and 4-year-old during a pandemic and our dad’s recent passing had gotten in the way. I showed up at her door, cranked that puppy out in three hours, and then casually brought up the decision during dinner. It was almost too easy. Maybe not quite as easy as Amazoning a Harry Potter Lego set to L.A., but … I’m a godmother again!
Peace out.