This might fall under the “too much information” category, but I have to bring it up. In all the advice-laden encounters I had with other dads leading up to Oscar’s birth, no one had the common courtesy to tell me the six weeks following the delivery would be my horniest to date.
First of all, Jackie’s on plant shut-down until her six-week midwife checkup, and knowing I can’t have sex is the world’s most potent aphrodisiac. Then there’s the living, breathing testament to my virility living in my house constantly reminding me of his existence. It’s getting to be ri-goddamn-diculous.
Am I a unique case, or is this just some dark dirty secret about fatherhood everyone decided to keep from me?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find a tree with a knot in it.