The Reluctant Father by Phil Toledano.
Well, obviously, it’s not exactly
how it started (that would be a
slightly different kind of book).
I was never particularly interested
in having kids. I liked them in an
abstract sense, in the same way
that exercise seems appealing,
but in practice, utterly tedious.
When friends came over with
their kids, I treated them like
radioactive material. Tolerable
for short periods of time.
Prolonged exposure would have
unpleasant effects, like hair loss,
or inexplicable stains on the sofa.
The problem is, I never took
into account the relentless
pull of gravity.
You have a girlfriend, and
everyone asks “So when are
you two getting married?’
You get married.
You’re married, and everyone
asks ‘So when are you two
going to have children?’
You have a child.
You have a child, and
everyone asks, ‘So
when are you having
the next one?’