“Can you believe I did this?”
Wisdom from the cool lips of a new father. Johnny — the baby of our family — the last one in a lineup of five in seven years led by me.
Laid-back, life-of-the-party, steal-your-heart Johnny turned daddy at 41.
“Wanna hold her?”
I shake my head, shrug my shoulders to say “Ooooh, I don’t know — I’m a little afraid.”
“Aw, come on — you can’t do anything to hurt her — she’s wrapped like a football.”
(She’s not the one I’m worried about.)
I catch the easy pass from the quarterback in the room, albeit reluctantly. I haven’t put myself in the position of holding a baby since — well —
Since I let myself consider the probability that — I’d never hold one of my own.
But this is Johnny’s baby. And what am I afraid of anyway?
The beautiful bundle rests in my arms, her dreamy eyelids drawn down sweetly on her three-hour-old face. When she stirs a tiny bit, I’m just a tiny bit alarmed. But look at her, just look at her.
She’s perfectly amazing, and yes, can I say it?
“I can believe you did this.”