I never signed up for this.
I always considered myself an excellent aunty. I have a niece, a few nephews, some much younger cousins, and the children of my dearest friends. I always pictured myself as the cool-but-kind aunt they could stay with when they ran away from home, or ask advice about sex, or have a sneaky drink with when they were not quite old enough.
Being the cool-but-kind aunt with a child is very different to being the cool-but-kind aunt with a disposable income and acres of free time. I am in a hurry because I have to look after my own child, too. I don't have any spare cash to take you for a wild, impulsive trip to the cafe for milkshakes. I almost never bring back exotic presents from far-flung places.
But I'm far better equipped for those awkward conversations.
Now, I hear what you're saying. "Nemosyn, when a teenager is withdrawing from one anti-psychotic drug and starting a new one and possibly suicidal and definitely screaming for hours and hours every day, is that the ideal time to have a long and detailed conversation about sex?"
And I'm agreeing with you, it ain't ideal. But I made her a serious and solemn promise that I would always answer any questions I reasonably could, without ever getting embarrassed or grossed out. So I did.
And I didn't laugh. Not once. Not even when she was telling me about how gross it is that her parents were actually, you know, doing - it. I mean they're old. Ew.