AUNTIE MCPHEE

There is something special about being an aunt. It pretty much means getting all the benefits of their cuteness and affection, being buoyed by their antics without the headache of dealing with their everyday tantrums. I see my nieces only two or three times a year. But I am testament to the power of their enchantment. . I know how it feels to be held captive by their mere presence. How when I am around them, all I want is to make them happy, to hear their laughter, for them to be as carefree, as reckless, to be proud of their happiness. I want them to just be like air, floating, without the weight of concerns and worries.

Their mother always scolds me that I'm setting them up to become brats. Naku, adding, sinasasanay mo na sila masyado. And it's true, I try my best to give them what they want. But I don't think it's unusual. I think it's normal for single aunts/uncles to baby their sibling's kids. It's a special role, because as an aunt and not a parent, I can be as childlike and foolish as I like. Running with them on the streets, making funny faces, and buying all the junk food they can possibly want and eating my part of the loot. We spend time talking about cartoons, telenovelas, catching frogs (yes!), counting stars, and them sharing stories about their classmates and teachers. How true, kids do say the darnest and most brutal things!

Us, aunts and uncles, we are treated differently by the kids. They know their powers, how if they ask nicely and make enough lambing, how they can most certainly have their way and get their hearts' desire. Pining for the new toy of the season, it is the aunt that they run to first before even telling their heart¡¯s desire to their mom. And it is a happy feeling. It makes me feel young just laughing with them.

The little things that don't matter in my everyday life becomes totally important when I'm with them. Like on the beach, the monkeys were a major, major issue. We arrived forewarned that there were monkeys who freely swing through the lush vegetation in the resort, and so the kids were adamant, hopeful that in the course of our two day stay, they'd see some swinging around. It was a big deal to them, and on and on they talked about the big monkey who suddenly appeared on the trees near the pool. The monkey seemed to wave, the younger one said. And I smiled. Maybe, I said, maybe it wanted to make friends but was shy. The little girl all but beamed. And all throughout our stay, we waited for the monkey. Alas, he was gone.

The thing we adults should learn from the kids though is how fast they recover from a letdown. The little girl was sad for less than a minute. Then she tells me, can we swim in the pool one more time? I beamed, see, this little girl knows when to give up and move on to the next good thing she can get her hands into. And so we swam. And I had the best two days being an aunt to the two kiddos.