I headed out to Phoenix this weekend for Roycefest 2013. Royce is Cynde and Ryan's (bff and bffhusband) son, and my godson. Yes, I'm a godmother. Not the fairy kind. And if you can believe it, I did not make a single Cinderella reference the entire weekend. Nor did I reference the mob once to his godfather. That, my friend, is maturity. Or maybe I was just off my game.
Back to Roycefest. It was his first birthday party and baptism this weekend so I went out to celebrate. My rule for attending 1st birthday parties is that I have to actually know and love and pretty much be related to the child to go. Otherwise I don't see much of a point. What does the kid know except there are a heck of a lot more people making faces at him and there's lots of trash to play with. But Royce meets all the criteria and there's something sweet about inviting your friends over to celebrate one year of survival. "He didn't die on our watch! Let's eat cake!" The funny thing about this particular child birthday party is that Cynde and Ryan know about 3 people who have children so it was mostly a bunch of oldies hanging out in the back yard. But I really like their friends (this is no surprise. Who don't I like? Besides Hitler. And my old upstairs neighbors.) And it was a lot of fun and Royce was super cute with his cupcake and it all felt like a lovely thing to celebrate.
The baptism was great. Gosh, I love going to other churches. Cynde and Ryan's is teeny but super friendly and warm. Every single person said hello. And all I had to do for the actual baptism part was stand there and be happy. Easy.
I really have no idea what it means to be a godparent. It's not part of my religious tradition and every time I ask people they usually say, "I think it means you get him if his parents die." Eek! Why are you talking about them dying? And what exactly are my qualifications? That I can keep a house plant alive? But I love the kid. And I promise to give him hugs and I take him on awesome adventures.