Bonding

Knickers can sit and gaze for hours at Patrick. The stoned look when he's so full of milk it's taking all his concentration to keep from vomiting is endlessly amusing to her. She loves the little sneer his top lip forms when he's particularly windy. His satisfied expression when he fills his nappy is a delight. So when he actually grins she is entranced.

On the nappy filling; Patrick is about a foot long, so how can he have a high pressure bottom eruption that lasts for five minutes? If a train is travelling past a level crossing at 400kph and it takes 5 minutes to go by, then the train is 33 and 1/3 k long. Is math telling me that if I were to hike a distance equal to the length of my son's bowel I would need to pack a tent (and supplies hey WT)? Surely this disproves some fundamental law of physics?

Clearly I think he is pretty interesting too - certainly from a scientific point of view - but I wouldn't say that we've bonded yet. Most other fathers, but not all, of my experience feel the same way about their own progeny: cuteness is great, but when are you going to do something?

Any font of knowledge on parenting (ie: anyone who has ever met a baby) will tell you to enjoy this magical time, they grow up so fast, when they learn to talk they start to talk back yadda yadda yadda. But I really dig the interaction with an ambulatory, talking, just used a permanent texta to draw doggies on the beige couch, now kind of scared because there's a talking toucan on the tv, little person.

Bring it.