I joined a gym today, primarily so that I would be strong and fit enough to carry you around before you can walk, and chase you around when you can run. Once you are Blessed to drive off in a mood, you'll be chased down by your mother of course, probably on a self-driven solar-powered hoverboard, as it is 2036 where you are now.
Incidentally, how am I holding up as a 56 year-old dude? Pretty bloody well, eh? It's all in the genes, y'see.
As I write this, your Mum is sound asleep, busy making you as she dreams. Today we talked about what our first holiday with you would be like, and our memories of holidays taken with family as far back as we could remember. I wonder what we will see and do together? It will be my life's work to find out, eh?
I hope you are not too surprised to read this - I am supposed to be a writer, and I always struggled with finding things in my head that were worth writing about.
You are, as it happens, the thing I will turn into the piece of writing everybody was waiting for for all those years, and some never got to see. Quite a bit of pressure for someone who, at eight weeks and two days old, has only just transitioned from an embryo to a foetus.
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