The point of Dad....

...at this stage seems to be very much a support role.

As a result of her op, the missus cannot lift anything heavier than a kettle for six weeks. Given that we can't live on tea and coffee alone, it's meant an awful lot of fetching and carrying for yours truly, not to mention dusting off my less than stellar culinary skills.

It's amazing what you need to manage a small baby at home - almost none of which we actually own. I'm now on first name terms with the friendly staff at Mothercare after an unbroken run of six successive days' visits, never coming away with less than a stack of equipment/clothing etc etc.

This burden is all entirely fair enough of course, and scarcely matches what the missus has had to put up with. I had no dead weight to lug around for nine months, no agonising pain during delivery, no major hormonal changes to deal with, and no spending hours with my tits out while a small creature snuffles on them like an anteater over a termite hill.

I reckon I'm getting off quite lightly...