How to Raise a Dad

Okay…so I made it…I made it out of that dark, wet, smelly tunnel…it was scary, but Yippee, I am here!

And, okay…I know my job…I know what I am here to do…I have to take that man, the one that would always put his hands on Mommy’s belly and pretend he couldn’t feel me moving around…and I have to make him into a Dad. I have to do this…I can do this…I will do this. My Mommy told me that I am capable of this…this is going to happen!

Okay…I think I have my steps figured out. There are going to be ten steps that I have to take, but the end result will be me having raised a Dad. Here we go…

Step 1: Make him aware of my presence. Yes, this means crying — a lot. That will be easy. And he’ll surely pay me some attention either in an effort to get me to be quiet, or out of true compassion and dislike of seeing my tears.

Step 2: Be super needy…and smelly. What a breeze this one is. Dad won’t be able to ignore my pungent stench, nor will he be able to merely brush aside my need for a new diaper and/or some milk.

Step 3: Be awfully cute. No practice needed for this one. I came out of the womb with a ridiculous amount of appeal.

Step 4: Be funny. This one may require some help from my bowels, but Dad will surely find my random, loud “toots” to be hilarious. I will also be sure to giggle at him often, even when he’s not really being funny.

Step 5: Take milk from him, too. Okay, I know who my cow is and it is not Daddy. But, I guess just a few times I can sip some cold white-ish goodness from him and that darn bottle thing.

Step 6: Let him put me to sleep and stay asleep for him (at least once). I know how frustrated Mommy gets when I give her a hard time going down, and I rarely go down easy or at all for Daddy. But, if I do this for him, even just once, it will feel like a huge win for him and will also give Mommy a break. Oh, this is a good one! I will do this for sure! Daddy will feel like our superhero. Alright, I gotta do this one asap.

Step 7: Smile at him. Easy breezy when you are cute and happy like I am. Check this box.

Step 8: Hold his finger and squeeze it. This will melt him. I repeat, this will melt him.

Step 9: Say “dada” for my first word. Okay, this one may piss Momma off, but when she realizes that I am “helping to raise a dad” she’ll understand.

Step 10: Be his BFF — now, forever, and always. Right now this is easy as pie, but I do believe when I become a teenager, we may struggle with this.

Good thing I will have already raised a Dad by then…