If my daughter could talk, I wonder what she would say about me. She's probably too young to string together a series of thoughts, but even if we could fast forward a couple of years, what would she say about me? I think she would assume that I have my shit together. I bring milk in bottles when she's hungry. I can lift her up in my arms and change her diaper when it needs changing. If asked questions, I seem to know the answers. To her, I must be all knowing, confident, and capable.
But what she doesn't know is that Dad was nervous holding her when she was first born--no one gave him the memo that babies have zero neck strength. She doesn't know that Dad originally bought diapers that were one size too small, which resulted in unexpected blowouts at inconvenient times (all blowouts are unexpected and there's never a convenient time for one). She doesn't know that Dad lucked out on the apartment we brought her to. He never got to see it before signing the lease, but he hoped it was half-decent given the floor plan he saw online.
Dad isn't all-knowing; he's sometimes confident and somewhat capable.
He's not Gandalf the Grey, he's just a boy with a baby.
Yours,
-Rahul
P.S. a reminder you can reply directly to oldmanrahul@substack.com, or you can tweet me @oldmanrahul about this edition. Thanks for reading and supporting my writing :)