Pregnant father or just a prop?

So what am I?  Father of the bump?  Pregnant father? Or, just a prop in the whole project?  Just trying to find my ground here.

It seems, all the attention is given to the woman, for what seem obviously the right reasons!  As for the man; it feels more like walking into a theatre and being told by the fashionably pompous usher,

‘We have a seat behind the pillar. It is just the seat you would like!......but, please be silent’

How a man ended up in this pigeonhole-role is hard to know.  It could have been out of his own choice.  I am a man!  I am not into all this nambi-pambi stuff.  Or, it also could be that is where he has been put by women.  That seems more likely though.

In my case, I am not left out, and will not be allowed to be left out.  Still, I have this desperate need for a label. A kind of designation.  Pregnant father!  Living in this region, designations are important.  It is an amazing disposition that nearly every locals feels.  Especially when applying for employment. It seems to be an essential necessity.  Just so that they can distribute their business cards with pride to their friends at the coffee shop. Preferred designations nearly always for men is, 'man-nay-gher'. Supposed to be manger! Somewhere they feel having the designation of manager is far more respected and looked up than even chief executive officer.  I will stick with pregnant father. 

I like pregnant father. But then that can also sound like I am pregnant. Especially to those who have no sense of creative reasoning.  I know!  Common sense will explain it.  But then, we have psychology today.  So common sense tends to take a back seat. Anyway, if it all back fires I will blame my mother for it.  

Father of the bump?  Does that not sound like Santa Claus waiting to give birth to a bag full of blood worms?  Ugly picture.

Back to what I was trying to say.  What am I supposed to feel, as a pregnant father?  I read this on earlier today.

'Well, you did it.  Big Guy- your partner is pregnant, and you are going to be a father. Say it again: a father!  Remember how deliriously happy you were when your team won the championship?  When you bought your first hot car?  When you landed the big contract and the boss gave you a promotion?  Funny, isn't it, that those high points don't compare with how you feel right now: excited beyond your wildest expectations (and maybe a little freaked out).  Kinda makes you want to crow like a rooster or puff up your chest like a gorilla - doesn't it?  Go for it. Dude (just make sure you do that crowing and puffing in the privacy of your own house). And be sure to share your joy - and pride - with her.  She's no doubt feeling the same thrill. After all, you did it together.'

Firstly, I find that article absolutely ridiculous and american.  Maybe, George Bush reacted in that fashion.  I mean junior.  Senior for sure must have taken the opposite path.

Well, yes I was deliriously happy when we won a match.  I do not feel like that now.  That was a freaking competition.  This clear is not!

When I bought my first hor car?  I was just thrilled that I will get laid now.  Not at all high that I had a car.  The car was the means to a hot gain!

When I landed a big contract, the boss did not give me a promotion. Instead, he took credit with the management and got elected to the board.  Really!  

Crow like a rooster or puff my chest like a gorilla? None, whatsoever! When roosters crow, I want to shoot them. Puff my chest like a gorilla? I never had an identity crisis with Edgar Rice Borrough's Tarzan of the Apes!

Something is missing here.  Either I do not get it, or I must be on another planet.   That fact that we are going to have a baby is wonderful.  Without a doubt.  It is an amazing fact of science, evolution and nature at its best.  But this is not the landing on Mars.  It is not a first time.  It is the most repetitive task humans have ever undertaken.  Look at the Chinese and Indians.  They multiply like amoebae.

I like to think that ET is going to be the next Einstein or Marie Curie. That one to break the mysteries of dark matter and energy.  Have the wit and eloquence of Christopher Hitchens.   You know, put-the-teacher-to-shame-in-class, kind of kid. Not  a   hill-billy! I want it to be one that understands and comprehends things beyond the average person.  An intellectual, immensely knowledgeable. Question everything!  I want it to have an IQ higher than Marilyn vos Savant. I want it to be arrogant and self confident.  And not a woolly woody type, vegetable eating hippie who claims that grass has feelings, and the dining table has a soul or the CIA in connivance with the Vatican  is secretly spraying the atmosphere with some mind altering chemical to make us all catholic!

Does this sound like I am planning to live my short-comings and dreams through ET?  Well...after all, I am Indian, right?