Roadhouse Magazine Issue 27

I recently became a father, which was a world-shatteringly profound experience for many reasons. Not least of all was the realisation that I had actually managed to convince a member of the opposite sex to procreate with me. When you think about it that’s seriously the biggest conceivable compliment one can receive, in fact it’s a total validation of your entire existence. And not just any female either, a pretty bloody good one. A very bloody good one. What a win, yay for me. Anyways the major shattering of my world-view is still slowly taking place though. I am literally mid-epiphany as I write this very column. I’m not even sure how to articulate it without sounding offensive to... well, our entire species. Here goes anyway. Now don’t take this the wrong way, I mean it with the utmost respect... but I feel like you have no idea what you’re doing. None. Literally zero. You see I used to think you had it all together, and that the trajectory of your life was meticulously planned out many decades ago, possibly on a giant piece of butcher’s paper, and that everything is going absolutely to schedule. I thought that same thing about essentially every adult on the planet, especially every parent. But now I’m a parent, and now I know the truth; no-one knows what they’re doing. Literally no-one. Least of all me. It’s pretty easy to work out what’s happened here. When I was young I looked around and the world seemed to be a pretty great place. Most of the time everything worked as it should, things generally went to plan; and I assumed that this smooth functioning was due to a high level of competence from those running the joint. The cut-off age for these people was always about a decade older than whatever age I happened to be at the time I was pondering the situation. The illusion persisted until very recently, right up until a few weeks ago actually, when my daughter was born. I remember returning home from the hospital with her, the door gently closing behind us, looking at my wife and thinking, “What idiot has left us alone with an actual infant human?” The first time my parents visited they bid us farewell after an evening of fun and merriment and I thought, “Oh dear, the adults have left the baby here with us children, we’ll have to call them and get them to come back and pick it up.” No such luck, the baby was ours, and we certainly weren’t children anymore. To this day I still feel like I have literally no idea how to care for a baby, it is in fact a genuine miracle that I make it through each day without setting myself on fire. I’m honestly waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say, “The jig’s up mate,” and we’ll chuckle together as my child is confiscated and I discover that of course this has all been some sort of Truman Show style experiment all along. Me? Raise a family? Preposterous! Yet, here we are nearly three months later. I haven’t spontaneously combusted and I’m happy to report our daughter (affectionately nicknamed “The Milk Pig”) is not only still alive but is flourishing. So here’s to us; to you, and me, and my wife and daughter, and all the rest with no idea what’s going on. To everyone with no clue what’s happening or how they got here or where they’re headed. Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep up the illusion, it seems to be working, and hey you managed to fool me for 34 years. But then again that’s not that much of an accomplishment, after all I have literally no idea what I’m doing. D.A. 78 RHM Magazine - roadhouse.net.au DAN ANSTEY The Sea FM f unnyman o f f e r s h i s l i f e t i ps and co l l ec t i ve b i za r re expe r i ences. Fo l l ow Dan on I ns t agram – @Dan_Ans tey THE FINAL WORD “To this day I still feel like I have literally no idea how to care for a baby, it is in fact a genuine miracle that I make it through each day without setting myself on fire.”