Recently I seem to have become a dad, and I’m not quite sure how it happened.
I don’t mean in the ‘physical’ sense, of course. Clearly at 39 I have a fair idea about the birds and the bees and had at least an inkling that fatherhood was on the horizon!
I’m referring specifically to the transition from ‘daddy’ to ‘dad’, which appears to have happened without warning over the past couple of weeks.
I had become quite fond of being ‘daddy’ – it’s a word full of youthful innocence and sounds pretty cute. ‘Dad’ on the other hand is a whole lot more grown up and I genuinely thought I had at least another couple of years of daddydom in the bank.
To me a ‘daddy’ is someone who gives hugs and plays with toys whereas a ‘dad’ is someone who helps with DIY and pays for things!
And yet here we are. Aged 3. Not even at school yet. And I’m a dad!
Fortunately it’s not just me. We also now have a ‘mum’ and a ‘nan’, although ‘grandad’ is currently safe as you can’t really make that one sound much more formal than it already is.
Sheepy, his toy sheep, has also survived unscathed so far, although I’m guessing it’s just a matter of time before he also succumbs to the same fate.
No doubt in the coming weeks his swimming teacher, Nicky, will become the rather more manly Nick whether she wants to or not. Holly at nursery will become Holl and his friend Ruby will become the rather unfortunately-named Rub. As for Maddie Moate her fate is sealed as she will shortly just be Mad.
It’s a sad state of affairs all round. Next he’ll be buying his own car and moving out.
Although at least then I might be able to sleep past 630am once in a while…