This could be as stupidly dangerous as the time I was suckered into a dice game on a side street in New Orleans or as Tiger Woods cheating on Elin Nordegren, but the idea intrigued me so I am going to do it anyway.
I am here to solicit advice from the same audience that over the past 18 months has questioned the Star Tribune's judgment in allowing me a forum in which to blog, called me every name imaginable, and wondered whether I possess any skill-set beyond finger painting. But I'm a believer that outside a select few, exists kind, good-hearted folks who can have a civil discussion. So here goes...
I am just a few weeks away from being a dad for the first time, and quite frankly, I'm nervous.
Not about picking a name for our little man -- I am still holding out hope that my wife changes her mind on "Clive" or "Wyclef" or on the initials WWW, WOW, or VFW. And not about the expected times that changing diapers will become a contact sport, although the Sports Cup has to rank with the air conditioner and remote control as one of the greatest inventions ever.
I know the fortune cookie saying: It is best to act with confidence no matter how little right you have to it. But I'm dubious.
They have classes on just about everything except for parenting. Maybe there should be, but there isn't a test that my wife and I had to pass to become parents . . . which scares me. I can see it now: when arriving home after leaving the hospital, my wife and I looking at each other as we walk through the front door simultaneously saying, "OK, now what?"
I know to expect the unexpected, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I understand the presumed bond my wife will have with the little guy -- pushing him out through the tiniest of spaces should do that. But selfishly, where does that leave me? Will I develop a comparable connection?
Tips and suggestions are encouraged, and even backbiting one-liners, but the one about me actually being able to find someone to have sexual relations with has been beaten into the ground.