Call me Auntie.

N came over on Friday to get the new disc of Mad Men for M who was feeling a bit under the weather. By this time I'm used to her belly looking a certain way, so I didn't really pay it any mind. Until she turned to the side and I was Shocked by the actual round-ball shaped bump she has begun to carry. I couldn't stop touching her belly, I couldn't believe that it could go from kinda-flat to basketball in a day...well, not a day. We actually hadn't seen each other for a week (sigh) which is probably why I was so surprised.
After I was finished pawing at her and she left to take care of sick hubby I began musing to myself over my impending Auntie-hood...and of course the eventual neurosis set in: Am I allowed to call myself Auntie? Is that presumptuous and rude (since there are actual blood Aunties)? Should I push Elsie to call me Auntie? Will she be scarred when she's 12 and realizes I am unrelated to the family? Will my brother be offended (even though he has no children...nor a wife)?
All these questions came back to one answer: I want to be Auntie so badly that I am willing to take any and all risks that may occur from the above scenarios. It will be totally worth it. Unless M and N say no.