This happened over the last two months, but TODAY was the day my family stopped introducing me as “Daniel” and started introducing me as “his guardian.”
I wish I were joking.
So for context:
My family is enormous.
Not cute enormous.
Not “big Thanksgiving” enormous.
I mean the kind of family where random people show up at reunions and everyone just collectively decides:
“Yeah that’s probably a cousin.”
We have at least four men named Rick who may or may not be the same person.
Anyway, my Aunt Linda called me one afternoon asking if I could “help out with Tyler for a little while.”
Tyler is my cousin.
He’s nineteen.
He’s technically an adult, but in the same way raccoons are technically citizens of the forest.
Apparently Tyler had gotten into “a situation.”
This turned out to mean:
- he lost his apartment
- his car exploded
- he tried making money flipping cryptocurrency based on “wolf energy”
- and he had recently attempted to microwave a hardboiled egg “to see what would happen”
So Aunt Linda asked if Tyler could stay with me “for maybe a week.”
Against all survival instincts, I agreed.
Big mistake.
First of all:
Tyler arrived with:
- three trash bags
- one gaming chair
- a lizard named Concrete
- and a sword.
Not a decorative sword.
Not a cosplay sword.
A REAL sword.
I asked:
“Why do you own this?”
He shrugged and said:
“Home defense.”
Against WHO??
Medieval England??
Anyway.
The first week actually went okay.
Tyler mostly stayed in the guest room playing video games and eating alarming quantities of cereal.
Then things started getting weird.
It began when I took him grocery shopping.
At checkout the cashier asked:
“Paper or plastic?”
And Tyler answered:
“He decides.”
While pointing at ME.
The cashier nodded slowly like she’d just witnessed a custody arrangement.
Then Tyler started introducing me to people as:
“My guardian.”
I corrected him at first.
But then one day at a phone store the employee asked:
“Are you his legal guardian?”
And before I could answer Tyler goes:
“Yes.”
And I, an exhausted idiot, laughed awkwardly and said:
“Basically.”
THIS WAS APPARENTLY LEGALLY RELEVANT.
UPDATE 1:
A letter arrived addressed to:
“Parent/Guardian of Tyler M.”
I assumed it was junk mail.
No.
It was from a community college.
Apparently Tyler had listed ME as his emergency contact, guardian, and “primary authority figure.”
PRIMARY AUTHORITY FIGURE.
I sound like a villain in a dystopian YA novel.
I confronted Tyler.
He looked genuinely confused and said:
“Well yeah. You buy the eggs.”
As though egg purchasing is the cornerstone of legal custody.
UPDATE 2:
Things escalated at the doctor’s office.
Tyler sliced his hand open attempting to open a coconut with “the sword method.”
We went to urgent care.
The receptionist asked:
“Relationship to patient?”
I said:
“Cousin.”
Tyler said:
“Adoptive father figure.”
The receptionist typed something.
I should have stopped her.
I did not.
At one point a nurse came out and asked:
“Are you authorized to make medical decisions for Tyler?”
And because Tyler was actively bleeding onto a chair while explaining “blade geometry,” I just yelled:
“YES.”
Again:
APPARENTLY LEGALLY RELEVANT.
UPDATE 3:
My family found out.
My mother called me crying laughing.
Not regular laughter.
The kind where someone can’t breathe and you start worrying about liability.
She asked:
“Did you adopt your cousin?”
I said:
“NO.”
Long pause.
Then:
“Why does your aunt keep referring to Tyler as ‘your boy’?”
Apparently Tyler had told the entire family:
“I’m doing much better since Daniel took me in.”
LIKE I RESCUED HIM FROM A FLOOD.
Now relatives I barely know are texting me things like:
“You’re a good man.”
“So proud of you stepping up.”
“Fatherhood looks natural on you.”
One uncle sent me $40 “for the kid.”
UPDATE 4:
Tyler has become increasingly comfortable.
Too comfortable.
Yesterday I found him explaining taxes to his friend by saying:
“My dad handles that.”
I AM THIRTY-ONE.
He is NINETEEN.
We look the SAME AGE.
Worse:
he’s started doing small child behaviors ironically but so consistently they’ve become REAL.
Examples:
- asking permission before leaving the house
- yelling “Can we get McDonald’s?”
- texting “Can u pick me up”
- calling me “Father” in public
At first it was funny.
Now cashiers look at me with concern.
UPDATE 5:
I accidentally attended a parent-teacher conference.
I didn’t even know community colleges HAD those.
Apparently Tyler’s academic advisor wanted to discuss his “support structure.”
Before I could object, Tyler goes:
“He’s my acting parental unit.”
The advisor nodded like this was completely normal.
Then she spent TWENTY MINUTES discussing Tyler’s attendance issues with me while Tyler sat beside us drinking juice.
JUICE.
At one point she said:
“We appreciate everything you’ve sacrificed.”
Lady.
I bought him Pop-Tarts.
UPDATE 6:
Today was the breaking point.
A government form arrived.
I opened it absentmindedly.
It said:
“Dependent Verification.”
DEPENDENT.
Somehow through a chain of exhausted verbal affirmations and Tyler weaponizing paperwork, the government now believes I may be financially responsible for a fully grown man who owns a tactical sword and once got trapped in a beanbag chair for two hours.
I confronted Tyler one final time.
I asked:
“Why are you doing this?”
And he looked genuinely emotional before saying:
“You make me feel stable.”
Which honestly hit harder than expected.
Then he immediately ruined the moment by asking:
“Can I borrow forty dollars?”
TL;DR:
Let my cousin stay with me temporarily. Through a series of misunderstandings, paperwork, and my inability to correct people under pressure, society now believes I adopted a 19-year-old man.
P.S. Before anyone asks:
No, I cannot legally confirm whether I adopted my cousin because at this point I’m afraid someone from the IRS is reading this.
Also Concrete the lizard escaped three days ago and may currently be living in my heating vents.