Whilst hiking and communing with nature, Z and I eventually stumbled into heart-to-heart talks about Hopes and Dreams. I'm generally wary of my own Hopes and Dreams... I always wonder whether they really are genuine desires I have for my future and the world I inhabit... or if they're just models of a highly generalized ideal life conjured up from Society As A Whole pertaining to what-life-should-be and what-I-should-aspire-to-do-with-my-many-years-as-a-human-being. So, if I can't trust myself, you can bet that I usually take the Hopes and Dreams of Others with a substantial grain of salt.
But, I suppose communing with nature broke down my guard - and I confessed to Z my desire to sire offspring someday. Yes, to pass along my traits - deleterious, neurotic, and generally unethically perpetuated in my present physical and mental form by generations of marriage within the Anglo-Saxon and Welsh communities that call themselves my ancestry. Hell, I even have names for the little Rugrats already picked out. And yes, most of the names come from authors or characters I enjoy. But we'll save that for another time. But still, as we trudged on along trails, the scent of wildflowers must have poisoned our minds... for we found ourselves confessing our strong paternal instincts. Z's were more grounded in logic. Despite his own misgivings, I find him to be rather good with other... humans. Kids, old folks, and everything in between. No wonder he's a pseudo-politician.
I, however, have spent very little time around... young things. I've never really held responsibility over another... life... young living thing. You get the idea. I never had a pet as a child, and I'm the younger offspring to my parents. On my mom's side, I also succeed in being the youngest grandchild. On my father's side, two younger cousins were raised so far from me that I never really interacted with them. My Houseplant Success Report is 2/5 that survived under my care. As you can see, the rate at which life thrives in the vicinity of my living space is not exactly something that should support my paternal drive.
Yet, after our hiking and communing-with-nature bonding moments, I had two opportunities to prove my worth to my fellow Earthlings: a stray dog and the infant son of Z's boss.
The stray dog (Buddy) you'll hear about later... But as for Henson: Z and I had the opportunity several times today at the wedding to care for his boss' son. The kid is labelled Perpetually Happy. Hardly ever cries, always smiling, ever easygoing.
Except when I hold him.
Granted, I'm still in the kids-are-so-fragile phase that I fear the very act of touching him will bruise his flesh. The last thing I need is the DCFS locking me up for holding the kid in a manner unbecoming of a Potential Paternal. I also have this intense drive to shape his mind when I interact with him. I want to do and say things that will give him a desire to learn, and an overwhelming urge to read, read, read, read, read... I want him to be a Rennaisance Man - doing and learning all. Or at least as much as possible.
"Jesus, James. He's only ten months old."
I guess he was more interested in attempting to eat the lavender bloom stuck behind my ear. And the gravel on the pathway.
And he was interested in crying. Again. And only when I held him.
No amount of "James, don't worry... he's tired and irritable" would help. Put the kid in someone else's hands and he was as happy as a clam. And this has happened on two other occasions, too!
What do I do that makes Henson trade in his Infant Happy Meal for JRU's Grumpy Meal?!
Dejected, I've decided that, even though I can't be a father now, I can at least suggest some rockin' names to you other potential dads out there. Granted, the names are unnecessarily rooted in the likes of Jane Austen lore, some American classics, and other random novels I drool over. But hey, let me leave my mark somewhere in humanity, since my deleterious Welsh traits will shrivel with me.
But then again, not having kids leaves me more money to purchase the essentials: margaritas, Star Trek, books, and socks.
Posted by James at July 25, 2004 11:50 PMI think you'd make a fabulous father to my children!
Posted by: sam at July 26, 2004 12:41 AM