It should be said that when I asked if there was a Godfather picked out yet, I was only asking in half jest. Now, holding this frail odd thing in my arms, I wonder if they made the right choice to bestow me with that honour. It’s not that I doubt my capabilities in taking care of the next generation when my role is called for, but there is also the part of me that can’t help but think of every moment and every experience as information for a giant experiment.
Ultimately, my role would probably be down regulated to taking care of the child should the parents want to get away in order to find time to themselves in a world perpetually out of time. I can live with that, even if that means imparting some of my more geeky mannerisms to their child at whatever chance I can get. The rest of the time, all I have to do is to make sure I play my part well by doing my best Marlon Brando impression, and putting a horses head in the bed of whoever bothers the kid.
It’s sure to be a hit with the other parents. I think.