In my family, most of us have an opportunity to serve as godparent. I have had this privilege twice, for my nieces Alanna and Colleen.
This really creates a special bond between the three of us. They were born when I was in my early 20s so I have literally watched them grow up.
We also have a fun little game where they vie for the title of “favorite goddaughter.” I don’t remember when this started, but it continues even though one has graduated college and the other will do so in the next year or two.
The game never turns ugly because we all know it’s not serious in any way, shape or form. It merely provides each one of us the opportunity to get a little dig in at the others. Like if one of them is late for something, the criteria is surely punctuality.
I have tried to decree that the only true criteria for favorite goddaughter is the one who doesn’t try to prove that she is my favorite goddaughter. This has failed miserably.
But our most recent family vacation may have provided the answer once and for all.
In the middle of the week, the annual family cornhole (bean bag toss for the uninitiated) tournament took place. This marked the seventh year or so that we have paired off in randomly selected teams and done battle to the death.
I found myself paired with my nephew Patrick. We have each won titles in the past, either at the beach or the no-longer contested Christmas Eve tournament. I also think Pat won in the one and only (so far) Thanksgiving event.
Anyways, we had some pedigree to our name, but so did some other teams. We knew we would have a difficult road to the title, but made it to the semifinals without much difficulty. There, we ran into a surprise tande of Colleen and my nephew Sean.
I knew we could not underestimate them. Sean and his girlfriend knocked me and a powerful partner out in the first round at Chistmas one year. Colleen is a Division I college lacrosse player. They had the tools to win the whole thing.
But isn’t this where the “favorite goddaughter” pledge should come into play? I surely have given her enough guidance that she could put her desire for a title aside and help her godfather out.
Of course, no such thing happened. We got behind and could never catch up. With the game to 21, they held a 20-10 lead. Colleen and I stood ready to throw. On her first bag, she nailed a cornhole. I barely missed, then she put a bag close to the board. I had to come up big or she and Sean would win. I missed. The deed was done.
But she apparently wanted to put the favorite goddaughter contest to rest. On her third shot, she managed to sink that bag in the whole and drag the one on the board with it. Three shots, three cornholes. The game was essentially over.
Except she sank a fourth cornhole on the final shot. That was all I needed to see. My favorite goddaughter is the one who doesn’t ruin my dreams of a cornhole championship.
Old school.