If you had known me back in my single days....oh, um, I mean, my first single days, I might have given you the impression that I was a sullen, brooding figure. You see, when I wasn’t on the clock earning my living, I was frequently stumbling around San Francisco, reading, writing, drawing, browsing book stores, and hanging out in Golden Gate park. I was always comfortable doing these things on my own. If, after a day of minding my own business, I realized, upon arriving home, that I had not uttered a single word to another living soul all day, then I would regard the day as a kind of success.

The old adage, “Don’t speak until you are spoken to,” wasn’t just an example of good manners for me then, it was actually nothing less than the totality of my social skills.

But since becoming a father, “Brooding Guy” doesn’t exist anymore. He has been replaced with...well, I don’t really have a name for who I am now. “Talking Out Loud Crazy Guy” I guess comes as close as any name. This is because even before Oliver and Amélie learned to talk, I had made it my habit to talk out loud about everything I was doing.

It started innocently enough, as I tried to provide Oliver reasurance for every moment I left his side. “I’m just going over here now, Oliver. I’m picking up your toy. See? I’m putting it back on your high chair now.”

And that was just fine, but it quickly evolved into elaborate announcements, explanations, and unrequested life lessons. “Amélie, I’m just stepping outside to my car in the driveway. I’ll just be in the driveway, honey. See? I’m keeping the front door open. I’m opening the hood of my car now, sweety. I just want to check my oil level. If you hear a loud bang, it is just the hood of the car slamming shut, OK? I...um....hrrm...well, it looks like I’m about a quart low, darling! You never want to be low! And you always want to change your oil every three thousand miles, OK? Will you do that? I used to be terrible about it when I was younger! OK, I’m slamming my hood shut now, so don’t be alarmed! I’m coming back in the house now, honey!” And often enough, these elaborate presentations are greeted with a dumbfounded look from my preoccupied daughter as if to say, “Oh, did you say something, Papa?”

I am at least grateful that I live in a commercial district with no other residential neighbors. They would certainly wonder about the man down the street who feels he must provide running commentary on his life at the top of his lungs. And I know that If I tried to make it through the day now without uttering a word, my head would certainly explode from pressure.

“OK, Oliver and Amélie, I’m done with my blog post now! I’m just uploading it. Its always good to stay in touch with your friends and readers, sweeties. Do try to remember that!”

photo by picspics