Oh, come on. Who comes up with these questions? Mr. Question Man, probably. Oh, Mr. Question Man, have you any idea the number of women who read this blog? I am going to lose, somewhat ironically, my testicles if I misanswer this. Oh, why now? Oh, come on. Really? My only option? Damn. Ah, well. This blog was fun while it lasted…
Ahem. Well, erm. Yes. Quite. Erm. Hmm. A baby, huh? Oh. How nice. I don’t really want children so this would be an accident. A happy one. You know, for her. My initial reaction after she handed me the pee stick would be something like, “EWWW! What the hell! You’ve peed on this! HOW IS THIS A PRECIOUS MOMENT! Ewww, where’s the soap, where’s the soap, where’s the soap?” In 18 years time, at my child’s 18th birthday party, all I’ll be thinking about is the time she entered my life in a wave of urine. And there’s something else, too. Women have this ‘look’ that’s really hard to describe. A sort of smile, with warm eyes and a golden glow. A look of pure joy. Sometimes they do it deliberately to soften the blow. But it’s hard to tell if it’s that, or if she’s worried about you, or really happy and hoping you’ll marry her and buy a big mansion to live in, or even that she wants you to forgive her for that one and only time you let her buy the condom. In reality, all I would be thinking about is the God-awful smell of wee.
As this is a scenario I’ve never imagined before, because I seriously doubt a women’s reaction to a naked me would be anything other than horrified, I can only speculate. It’s something I’d grow into. Not something I’d want but they always say you grow into it. You know. The first ultrasound and the first moment you pretend you can see the baby in it. “Oh, yeah, yeah, that – that, pixel, yeah – what a precious pixel”. No need to worry though. She doesn’t know where it is, either. Or you can get those 4D ones where the baby looks like a model from the set of Alien.
And there are other moments, too. All the classes. The screaming. The complaining. “Where’s my dinner? Massage my feet. Light some candles. Feed the pony!” And that’s just me. Kidding. But the big one is the big one. The birth. The first time you hold her. I’d like a girl in this situation. Girls are lovely. Really smashing. Great at everything. I’m smiling, by the way. And then it would change. It would become a duty to take care of her. And that’s pretty special. Even though all babies hate me and I’m absolutely useless with them. She’d be bored all the time. I’d end up giving her a pan and a wooden spoon. Worked in the old days.
What would I do if I found out I was gonna be a dad? It’s impossible to tell until I’m there, hopefully never, though. But I’d like to think I’d be okay with it. I wouldn’t run. You can’t can you? You can’t leave her. Even though I don’t want a baby, it would be mine and you have to see it through. There isn’t any other option. You have to stay and fight. One’s duties and obligations are honour bound. It would be something to be proud of. Despite the fact that she’d probably pee all over me all the time. The baby, obviously. Not the mother.
Unless it’s a home birth.
Although I’d be okay with that because it already happened nine months prior…
If you are not a parent, readers, how would you react to the news?
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