I’m a baby papa. Actually, make that babies papa. There, I outed myself. I am legally a parent and a husband – a man no longer solo but a caretaker of my out-of-womb seeds and a spicy Oriental lass of the Han-Gook variety.
“Everything changes once you have kids. So don’t pop holes through your condom with your teeth during…”
- Planned Parenthood (ok, not really)
If you had asked me 5 years ago whether I’d be married with kids (and a minivan too), I would have laughed really, really hard and said, “Whatever mofo, pass the lychee soju and let us drink like vikings and touch the untanned parts of pretty girls.”
But it is not 5 years ago, it is today. Instead, I am married with kids (two to be precise and perhaps more on the way). 5 years ago, I would have considered my current state of affairs a “worst case scenario,” second only to running out of Shiseido facial moisturizer and blotting paper before a big audition. Sigh…being an 18 year old, single father of two is truly sobering…
