It has now been almost a year and a half since I embarked on what I think of as “late-onset fatherhood.” Becoming a first-time parent this late-I’m forty-eight, and my wife Molly is nine years younger-can be daunting. I’ve got a bad knee, I’ve got dental nightmares, acid reflux, and the list of favorite foods I can’t eat anymore. Not to mention the cute little convertible I sold because it lacked a place for an infant seat.
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