What will you leave this town with?

My Brother is going to have a kid. By “brother” I mean my oldest friend and closet thing I have to a sibling. And by “going to have a kid” I mean of course he got a lady pregnant who is bearing the child, Brother himself is not having the baby. (If a man got pregnant there would only be three possible exits for the child to escape the man-womb, Orally, bursting out of the stomach like in the movie “Aliens” or through the pee hole. Fuck the whole lot of that right?) I have limited experience with babies but I know that taking care of a baby is like taking care of a friend who is way too wasted. Babies scream nonsense at the top of their lungs and get aggravated when you cant understand the “Agrhhhhrhhrtop.” means “Hey, can you give me some socks, my feet are pretty cold.” Babies can choke on their own vomit, thats how Jimmy Hendrix died. Babies and drunk people seem to share this weird death wish, babies are always putting their fingers in sockets and drunks are always picking fights with bouncers at strip clubs. Both drunks and babies make unreasonable demands, Babies want milk at 4 a.m and drunks want to go fishing at 3 a.m. Both have an obsession with breasts and Mexican food. Babies are a buzz-kill. On top of ozzing shit and snot every three minutes, the responsibility that bringing a new life form into the world is terrifying.
There are viruses and rapists and mountain lions, and all types of treacherous women. When you have a kid you introduce the little, defenseless, useless shit machine to all the dangers of the world we barely understand. (I shouldn't say useless, babies make great paper weights and door stops, hey I got a joke; "How many babies does it take to paint a wall? Depends on how hard you throw them.") And that new life, that pure child devoid of all sin, has to learn of lies, and heart break and cold lonely nights.
Me and Brother talked about this for awhile, and like it has always been, I'm way more worried than he is. Brother didn't grow up with his dad and the only thing i've seen of their father-to-son love is free hair cuts and the occasional 20 dollars that brother would spend on pot and food. Brother told me that he is willing to give his son everything and I absolutely believe that. ITs just hard to see my best friend the same retard I used to watch jump houses (We had a game that supposedly trained our reflexes where we would take turns throwing forks at one another and try to dodge them, although whenever it got to my turn to do the dodging I quit.) He is also getting married and while I usually dont condone marriage in the early 20s marrying the women whom is to have your child is only the right thing to do. (When a girl has a baby she gets bigger boobs but a looser vag, In my eyes, not an even trade. You can have triple Ds, if your pussy is like the bat cave I aint fucking with you.) Brother is unafraid and maybe even excited about the possibility of having a son. There will be love for the child, of this I am sure.
Fuck, lets wrap this up, I'm getting teary eyed.

Dear nephew to be;
My name is Adam and I'm going to be your favorite uncle.
Your dad and I were raised in Chicago but its best you grow up under that southern sun of Atlanta. The sun there is so close to the earth you have no choice but respect that there are larger things. It will humble you. The red dirt of the southern will teach you many things the dirty snow of the mid west won't. Do me a favor and be hard on your dad, in his dealing with you he will mature. Cut him no slack. Eat junk food, learn the joys of grease because fat kids are cute, fat adults have health issues and breath too loud. Like the prettiest girl in class, but play it cool, your father never had half the girl problems I did but we all can't be as lucky (or tall) as he is. Be kind, don't be a jerk. The world is full of assholes (i.e your dad and I) but what we really need are more gentle hands. When you get older (like 12) I'll drink whiskey with you and we can talk about girls and video games and adventures. Your father will do a great job raising you, but I'll teach you what to do when the weight of your thoughts and chest get to heavy. I''ll teach you how to bounce down the stairs and roll to your feet.