Fee Fi Fo Fum

I couldn't believe that it was so clear. And a boy too. There was no
doubt about that. It was the first thing that you could really see. And
it scared me a bit at first. Being able to see the boy that I am going
to be a father too. Because I'm not really how I imagined a father to
be. I'm just not&;#8230;.certain about things. I suppose that I feel
a bit like I've not really been tuned in properly. You know, like the
aerial's been blown over and the picture has gone a little bit fuzzy.
But things seem to change so quickly now, and you're never quite sure
what's round the corner. And it's not just me. Sometimes you can see it
when you're walking along. People looking a little bit uncertain and
scratching their heads. Hair falling out all over the pavement.

When I was growing up the thing that I most remember about my father
was his boots. They would sit by the back door and they were enormous.
I'd try and stand in them and everybody would laugh. And I couldn't
pick them up, they were that heavy. That's what being a parent is all
about isn't it? Having that weight. That solidity. Being able to
announce decisions with the confidence of a Judge. Carving the Sunday
roast with a big huge carving knife. Fee Fi Fo Fum.

They were big, solid people my family. All of them. They weren't fuzzy.
They knew what they were doing and what they were going to do. But it's
just not the same now. Sometimes I walk through town, and I look up at
all the soot stained houses and I feel that I'm living a life that
hasn't really been made for me. That I'm living a life that has already
been lived before. Only this time it's not quite as good somehow. A
little bit used up.

I went into Tesco's after the scan and found myself in front of all the
baby food. Have you seen what babies can get to eat these days?
'Lancashire Hotpot'. 'Cheesy Parsnip and Potato Bake'. 'Mediterranean
Vegetable and Lamb Risotto'. How are you going to choose among all of
that? Why don't they just have a jar with 'Baby Food' written on?

And then there's all the advice we're being offered. Classes on how to
be a parent and whether to do this or do that or do the other. It's
making me feel fuzzier by the day. One morning Catherine will wake up
and she'll hardly be able to see me through all the interference.

But our son is lying there, waiting to come out, all new and clear as a
bell. And I'm going to be a good father to him. It's probably just what
I need.