Walking down the street today under Paddington's greening spring canopy, I realised that things are quite different in my world right now. I was talking out loud about the green trees, and the silver cars and the birdies flying past... There was a baby strapped into her Baby Bjorn holder on the front of me; clipped to my belt a small red insulating bag holding a bottle of formula. Of course the usual wallet and phone were in my pockets; a bib somewhere too. Earlier in the morning, having put her down to rest, I'd immediately cleaned up the bowl I'd fed her from and the various toys & things that were strewn about. The room was ordered again but set for its next chapter of chaos.
I realised that I have become my parents.
At the cafe in the park, where I'd fed her the formula and shared a bite to eat with her grandpa, were left meal remnants as we fled upon the arrival of the fatigue monster, thankfully banished rapidly by the movement of walking (away from that very nice but not quite completed smoothie). And I didn't care.
The thing about it is that you really don't care about that stuff, the incompleted meals, the messed up hair, the food on your clothes. I may become the emaciated crazy guy with the kid, but I'm ready for that role.