The Reluctant Father

There’s a lot of peculiarity about my becoming a dad;
While others revelled, I can’t say that I was not all sad.
It felt like a setback to my carefree happy go lucky days;
I knew not why but everybody felt I should mend my ways.
No more rambling in the wild on a hot and sunny week end;
No sudden trips out of town for now there’s a kid to tend.
No more allowed to be like before, bohemian and wild;
A single argument from everyone, “What’ll you teach your child?”
Unlike the times that I could go out and enjoy in the night,
I cant now for a toddler needs to be always kept in sight.
Autumn it was, in late October the date was twenty fifth;
The baby chose to come, and all looked eager for the ‘gift’.
Beside my wife in the labour room seeing her huffing and puffing;
Tears trickled down her cheek amidst her writhing and roughing;
I waited in fear holding her hand as she kept crying out in pain;
Debating inside why this was necessary, “what do we have to gain?”
A little child in the house meant  giving up on my capers;
Oh what  a life I saw ahead, with me changing wet diapers.
An hour long labour later when the baby hit the ground;
“A boy it is,” said the doctor hearing which I frowned.
For all the hoop la our parents made, l’d hoped for a little girl;
Sweet and colourful was what we wanted; a boy becomes a churl.
The nurse carried the boy away as I met the new born mother.
Relieved to find that all was well; my girl was out of bother.
The sister rubbed and cleaned the boy and put him on a scale.
“A big boy there,” the nurse declares,”4 kg, hearty and hale.”
“A big boy just like his father,” I beamed inside my mind.
Wonder from amidst all the fear, ‘pride’ how I did find?
I had my first look as they cleaned him and laid him on a tray;
“Innocent lil bugger,” I said without any sugary display.
Wishes and blessings from all around came fast pouring in;
Lil did I realise when my face had changed into a happy grin.
When the baby was brought in for its first ever little suckle,
I prodded him and probed him from his head to toe to knuckle.
While tickling on his tender legs I found in there a mole, “Oh!
This boy will travel a lot,” I named him Marco Polo.
A day later when we came back home with the new born child in tow;
Since then I have not found time to ponder on my woe.
No weekend wilds, no unplanned travel no eat outs as before;
But  feels all cool, the home feels good, I go out side no more.
A would be father I was then, my heart was full o’ reluctance.
The story how’ver is not the same now, more than ten months hence
Its true that he has reined his heart from every outdoor venture;
But in his son this reluctant father has found his best adventure.

This post is in reaponse to Daily post prompt Peculiar