FATHERHOOD


 


In all the acclimatization of this whole fatherhood thing, I still hate the sight and smell of poo.  Steph tried numerous times to teach me how to change the baby’s diaper but I was never interested. Excuses never ran out from my archive. Why should I learn when I know she’s not leaving anytime soon…I mean… why is she the mother?

 My avalanche of excuses kept coming until few days ago when my mother came to visit; I learnt to change diaper the hard way. Steph had gone to the market with my mother and the baby was sleeping in her cradle; she gave me her food and all she needed in case she wakes up. But I guess Steph left out details. Or perhaps, I wasn’t listening. Maybe I didn’t pay full attention to details. I was caught in my oblivious.

Believe it or not, the baby woke up with deafening cry the very moment they left home.  I picked her up to rock her back to sleep only to catch the whiff of the one thing I dread the most. My soul almost left my body. I quickly put her down and impulsively picked my phone. I dialled Steph’s number and the phone rang just before my eyes. She had forgotten her phone as usual. I called mama and she didn’t help matters at all. She asked me to take care of my baby that she and Steph won’t be home for the next couple of hours. I was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Yea! I was between the hell and high waters. I almost ran of the house as she kept screaming at the top of her lungs. If I wait for Steph to come and change it for the sake of the stink bomb and watch my child cry for an hour, then what kind of father would I be? Thank God for smartphones. I had to face my demons all by myself. I brought out my smartphone and the rest was history.

 I made quite a mess while following the instructions from the video. But I did it finally. Steph and mama came home after about an hour, and they noticed the change. The touch of a professional. I had place where should be the back to the front and the front to the back and didn’t know. They should laugh all they want, but for me, I am very proud of myself for changing my daughter’s diaper when she needed me. And I’m absolutely telling her the story when she becomes a woman.

                                                                          © I.J. Kalia

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