Uncle

This Christmas, you are an uncle. 

I know you didn’t ask to take on this role – it’s kind of shitty of your sister for going on and having children without even asking you how you felt about assuming such responsibility; but once she pops them out, society says you got a new name and you can't do anything about it – so I’m going to help you out and give you some advice on how to meet your nephew and niece for the first time (because no one ever offered me any).

Now, first, I want to congratulate you on managing to avoid every family holiday gathering for the last five years. I mean you made me miss you, and that’s impressive. I think I only managed to miss three in a row before your mom threatened to bring Thanksgiving or Christmas to my place if I didn’t come. Of course, I had to after she caught me in my lie about going to Cabo for Christmas. (I do not suggest lying to your sister; she’s your mother’s daughter which means she is smart, stubborn, and persistent. She’ll see right through you.)

Now, the downside to your avoidance is that your nephew is almost four and your niece is almost three, and it is your first time actually meeting them. All those zoom calls and phantom presents in the mail don’t have much grounding for a toddler, so you need to understand, they might not know (or care) who you are. Or, if they’re anything like your sister, they might be slightly frightened by you. I think she was about seven years old when she finally warmed up to me. Those years were tough to explain to your mom, because, of course, she thought I just wasn’t trying hard enough. 

But you cannot let the fear detour you. Everyone expects you to do your part to ensure Michael and Susie know who you are, and more importantly that they like you. Facial hair is certainly a factor in the fear, so you might consider a shave before meeting them. Make sure your deodorant is mild – the tiny humans are especially sensitive to prevalent scents like Old Spice. You've gotta pick something milder, think vanilla and bergamot. If you’re worried about getting past their fear, drink a few Long Island Iced Teas before they arrive, and honestly, you won’t even care. Being slightly buzzed throughout the entire holiday is actually one of the greatest and most encouraged requirements of being an uncle. 

When the kids first arrive, there’s going to be a lot of excitement. They’re probably going to be tired and overstimulated from all the traveling, but it’s not going to appear that way. They’re going to appear, well, kind of like you after drinking all those Long Island Iced Teas: loud, messy, energetic, and full of unsolicited random commentary about everyone and everything. Toddlers really are just small drunk people. It’s actually what makes the uncle-child relationship so wonderful; there’s a sense of understanding, some common ground for you guys to stand on together. It’s important that you keep this delirium going, especially if they don’t know who you are yet. 

So, while everyone is greeting them loudly and gushing over how tall they’ve gotten since the last time they’ve seen them (it’s really just like an inch or two), you’re going to be in the kitchen, making yourself yet another drink, and pouring Michael and Susie a glass of chocolate oatmilk (pretty sure no is doing the cow thing anymore). Once the grandparents and parents have parted like the Red Sea, the first thing the kiddos are going to see is you, standing there with two cups of the exact beverage they always ask for but no one ever gives them. When you make eye contact with them, you’re going to smile, glance down at the cups (make sure they’re capped with straws), then look back at them. They might not come running the first time, but by your second meeting, they’re going to expect it. 

You remember, don’t you? It was our third Christmas together, our second Christmas with the chocolate milk (I hadn’t thought of it the first year); I handed it to you, and you took a big gulp, tilted your head at me like a small puppy, and said, “Thank you! It’s just what I wanted.” Then you walked off with the cup in your hand like we had just made some sort of business deal. Kids are weird, but man are they funny! It was actually pretty rad, and our relationship was smooth-sailing after that; that’s how I know this chocolate milk thing works. Once the kids have the chocolate milk, they’re going to associate that dopamine hit with the person who gave it to them: you. Now, you’re in. That’s your cue to say, “Hi guys! Do you remember me? I’m Uncle Kevin!”

They might give you a strange look. That’s OK. Just because they like you now doesn’t mean they’re immediately going to recognize your name (no matter how much your sister tried to bring you up in conversation over the years). Here’s how you can really seal the deal and make the association clear in their minds: Make sure they know you’re the one who sent the Mickey Mouse Christmas card two years ago, and you’re the one who sent the big princess and dinosaur tents that your sister complained about not having any space for in their rooms (awesome move, by the way). Try something like this: “I know you probably don’t remember me because you’re spending so much time in those awesome tents I sent you, huh?” This is actually a fabulous ice breaker for you, because from what I’ve heard, the two are pretty upset about their mother getting rid of them after six months. So, you could definitely use that as some leverage to gain access into the graces of the little people. They need to know you’re on their side, right off the bat. And your sister will forget about the fact that you’ve resurfaced that issue after her first glass of wine, guaranteed.

Now that they understand you’re the cool ghost of a person who sent them probably their favorite gift of all time, you’ve got to show them that you’re that cool person. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? You, my nephew, have got to build Michael and Susie a fort. And I mean, like a real fort. Take the couch apart, ask your parents for all their extra bedding and sheets and pillows they have in the house, and build something grand. You build those two kids a fort, and not only will you surpass their parents as the best person they’ve ever met, you will have your sister and your brother-in-law’s admiration for eternity. Your parent’s might even reconsider all the times they’ve secretly thought about how you’re wasting your life at the same dead-end warehouse job now that they see your pallet-stacking abilities put to good use with their grandchildren. Plus, building a fort is incredibly fun when you’re a little tipsy. And it makes for a really great and discreet napping spot after dinner – you actually have to do this at least once during your visit; Susie and Michael will find it hilarious and giggle about the snoring noises you make while building pillow towers on your belly.

You see, nephew, being an uncle, whether you wanted to be or not, is an incredible and important job. You really are the glue holding this whole shin-dig together, and that’s why everyone makes a big fuss about you attending the family holiday. Without uncles, there’s just less pizzaz during the holidays. There really is no one more fun than the single middle-aged weird guy with no kids who drinks way too much alcohol, jacks the kids up on sugar, turns them against their parents, hypes up their energy before bedtime, and then falls asleep on the floor right after dinner, only to leave everyone else in the family a little concerned about alcohol poisoning (but not enough to actually do anything). There's no one quite like the guy who sloppily slurs, "Hey, now, you're fine," or "It's not my kid," before walking away from the kids while they're exhaustedly crying about not getting yet another refill of that delicious chocolate milk he's gotten them addicted to.

There really is no one like us. We are legends. And now that you've officially confirmed that you'll be attending the party this year, I feel so relieved to be able to pass my torch onto you. I will be spending Christmas in Cabo this year, so I wish you good luck meeting Susie and Michael; I know they will leave feeling quite uncertain about you, and yet, next year, they will feel strangely excited to see you again. And you might even find yourself feeling the same way. That's a sign you're doing it right.

This year, you're going to be an uncle. So, I'll leave you with this last piece of advice: Always remember, they're not your kids, therefore, they're not your problem.

Not even on Christmas.