Sunday, 22 March 2009

The Daddy Diaries - Part 3 - Only a Mother


I would like to preface this entry by making it noted that I have nothing against ugly people, indeed I consider myself a proud member of their clan. Well, that’s not 100% true, I only have a problem with people who are ugly AND:

1. Are so out of obstinacy
2. Have significantly contributed to their state (adorning with or protruding pieces of metal from central features would be included here)
3. They are ugly because they’re from Swansea

This week we had another scan on our child and found out that he’s in the 97th centile for weight but just below average in height.

So, short and fat, then. This brought to the fore of my mind one of my secret fears about becoming a father; I find babies…unsightly. There, I’ve said it. They have rolls of fat, weird shaped heads and have unknown disasters down their trousers – a room full of new-borns bears too much resemblance to a pub full of Glaswegians for me.

The way I saw it, there was a 50-50 chance of the baby being attractive. But now I learn the most unfortunate quirk of evolution awaits my off-spring. In order to reassure fathers that the child their partners have delivered are indeed composed of their genetic material, new babies tend to look like their fathers. Poor blighter. As if the prospect of being forced to learn how to complete a fiendish Su Doku as soon as he hold a pencil was n’t bad enough…

My problem is not that our child will be unpleasant-looking. It’s that I won’t be able to honestly say that he’s beautiful or perfect. Quite how everyone else seems to be able to stare at the bruised, misshapen mite they’ve produced then coo and lovingly say how gorgeous he/she is I will never know. I just can’t do this with any degree of integrity. What kind a father does this make me? What kind of person does this make me???

Oh, and if I ever told you that your baby was beautiful, then yours was the exception…honest.

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