On being someone's father

My mother describes my husband as one who does not show much emotion, and she is right. But she noticed how, during her recent visit, whenever our Great Expectation was mentioned, my husband would unconsciously begin to wag his proverbial tail. Because I live with him, I don't necessarily recognize my husband as an emotionally retentive, particularly because my hor-motional mood swings, unpredictable as they are, provoke lots of emotions from him which sometimes cause him to speak in a high voice, KENNY WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT???, or place both hands on my shoulders and look at me grimly, BABY? WILL YOU STOP?

But when it comes to events or milestones or moments where I expect a certain emotion to register for most people, such an emotion is often lost upon my husband. He remains cool in crisis, soft mannered even when cut off by a Masshole driver.

When we got home from the shower on Sunday, I began squirreling away all of the new layette, calling my mother to gush about all of the adorable uni-sex layette that the wee one will get to wear in just a couple of months. Hubs lounged on the couch, folded some laundry, caught the tail end of a James Bond marathon.

As I was washing my face that night, he stood in the doorway to the bathroom holding our new infant car seat. I figured that he would need to play with one new toy when we got home. But then I noticed that he had also opened the little sack of warmth that we will bundle our child in when he/she rides in the car or stroller during the colder months.

He started to pat the sack down into the carseat.

"See, this is where there will be a little baby," he said, and as I saw his eyes registering the sight of a small Q-tip head with Asian-Irish eyes, I also saw a smile creeping out the corner of his mouth.

Papa got a brand new [diaper] bag.