Earlier this week I was sitting next to my son, explaining the more intricate details of the Green Lantern back story and thinking to myself “I’ve done it. It’s taken 3 1/2 years to do it but I’ve finally done it.”
“I’ve become comfortable with being a father.”
Then two days later I had that ripped away from me.
We found out we’re expecting a girl.
This wasn’t a big shock. We were pretty sure that there were some ribbons and/or unicorns in our future. This pregnancy has been pretty much the polar opposite of the last one. When we’d talk about potential names, only girl names came to mind. Plus we bought a training urinal and you know that was pretty much the sealer of the deal.
And of course we are beside ourselves with joy. It turns out there was a hole in our hearts and family that we weren’t aware of until now but I’m pretty sure it’s girl shaped.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was terrified. I know how to father a boy. I’m pretty good at it. He can laugh when someone farts, take a baseball to the face and make peeing sounds over his defeated enemies.
All I have to do is get him a scar and I’m pretty much done.
Girls are another story.
No, girls are like 17 other stories. Long stories. Confusing stories. Stories I can’t explain later.
I don’t get girls. Never had. Never will.
But that’s probably for the best. Kids whose dads really get them always end up weird.
And yes, I am fully aware that girls can be just a tough and nerdy and almost as disgusting as boys. Judging by my parenting up to this point, this one almost certainly will be.
All in all I haven’t been this scared in four years.
But knowing what I know now, about how much joy kids bring you, I’ve never, ever been more excited.
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