Can I be a parent?
I know I'm the father. This isn't some Maury Povich moment. This is my child.
How do I be a parent? What does that even mean?
This hit me as I started cleaning out my garage. Look at it. It's a mess.
Really. It's a mess.
I can't keep a garage clean. How can I keep a baby clean?
And how do I make sure I don't lose it in this mess? What if I set her down when I come out here to grab a screwdriver and I can't find her? She could be buried under a stack of books, or a box of newspapers, or the Christmas pillows.
I could easily lose a baby in this mess.
I can't even keep my garage clean. Am I ready?