Next week

This Time Next Week

This time next week, I could be a Dad
It's a little bit scary but not sad and not bad.
But this time next week, it won't be the same.
It won't be the same, not ever again.
I'm a little bit nervous but, boy, am I glad
That this time next week I could be a Dad.

This time next week, we'll have a new child.
We've been blessed by the God of Fertility's smile.
This time next week, the boy or the girl
Will have gasped their first air from this extraordinary world.
The bairn may be mild or outrageously wild
But this time next week, we'll have a new child.

This time next week, I'll have changed my first nap.
A meconium moment with the chappess or chap.
I'll be practised with poppers on jump-suits and gro's.
This time next week, I'll be wiping the nose
Of a relative stranger who'll be happy to crap
In my lap, then expect me to change his fist nap.

This time next week, she'll have been through the pain.
The pain that she's heard about time and again.
The dilating, contracting, heavenly hell,
The pain that's so good but so painful as well.
She'll be so, so brave, but let me be plain -
I'm glad that next week she'll have been through the pain.

This time next week, I'll have shed real tears.
They'll stream down my cheeks and into my ears.
This time next week, I'll be weeping with joy
When I announce to the world: 'We've a girl (or a boy)!'
There'll be back-slapping, clapping, bravado and beers.
But this time next week, I'll shed real tears.