I’m handsome. I get it. People have been telling me this for years. Sometimes a little too often. I’m used to people checking me out. By that, I mean, I’m not used to people checking me out.
So…when my baby daughter checked me out, it was a pretty cool moment.
Up until this point, we weren’t sure how far she could see, or if she could see distance at all. Maybe she can’t see colors yet. Maybe all she can see is numbers. Maybe she has a keen eye for classic art. We really have no idea.
Here is how my baby checked me out:
Baby was in Baby Mama’s hands.
I walked from one end of the room to the other to get a pretzel.
Baby’s eyes followed me all the way across the room.
I ate the pretzel, while thinking about how my baby just checked me out.
This had never happened before. The baby checking me out, that is…I’ve had pretzels before. I like all types of pretzels, often with a cold beer.
This much we now know….Barbara Anne can now see! However, we still don’t know what she sees.
To Barbara, I may be the lanky guy with spikey hair. Or maybe she’s intrigued by me because I’m not her beautiful mom, who she sees more often than me. Maybe she is just thinking…what is up with this guy? Seriously, that’s not the dad I was given, is it? Maybe she just sees me as a big brown blob that can’t breastfeed.
When I’m holding my baby now, she’ll often just look up at me adoringly. Maybe she knows it’s me. Maybe she’s checking me out for new moles. Maybe she’s going to be a dermatologist.
The good news is that she can see us, and that’s a pretty incredible feeling. I would say it makes me want to melt, but I don’t want to say that, because I’ve never wanted to melt.