Wednesday, December 27, 2006
When your wife is expecting a baby, you can find all sorts of very detailed information about every stage in the evolution of both mother and baby. You can find minute-to-minute descriptions of which part bulges out at what moment or how your baby’s big toe develops if he kicks too much in his womb. Every single variable has been observed, measured, quantified, averaged, turned into a graph and compared since a guy called Grumph Jr. spilled some ink on a flat stone and turned pre-history into history.
But not a word on the biology of how a careless young man suddenly becomes a father.
So to fill the void, I decided to observe a prime example of man-becoming-father: moi.
Physically, there’s not much to report so far. I think there is a correlation between my wife bulging more and me bulging less. She claims that her tummy is expanding because the baby is growing. I say it’s because she suddenly started a feeding frenzy that is worse than that of a pack of sharks that drifted off into a vegetarian seaweed production centre. She cleans out every pan, which is a bit annoying when I didn’t even get the chance to fill my plate. Another small physical sign of impeding fatherhood is a stiff leg, because she takes a lot of naps and insists on using my leg as a pillow. This wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t so possessive to the point that she becomes aggressive when I try to go to the loo or just shift my leg.
My most noticeable change so far is the Pre-Daddy Grin. Don’t look for this medical term on the internet, I just invented it. It happens to me when I see little children play on the playground, or when a mother is making funny faces to her baby, or when a daddy comforts his little girl because she fell of the swing (head first). Then it hits me that in a couple of months time I too shall have such a bundle of joy in my hands. And then I grin.