I AM a god. Not the God, but a god. Big claim, I know, but stay with me.

When your newborn child looks at you for the first time with some kid of recognition, you go from being a normal person to being their personal god. You are everything to them. You provide everything. You are their world. It’s a big responsibility, but also an extraordinary feeling. Especially as in normal life we are generally not treated like gods. In normal life we have to grow a thicker skin to protect ourselves from the lack of god-like treatment. When you suddenly find yourself becoming someone’s personal deity, it’s quite a boost to your self esteem.

Unless you're Superman or Donald Trump, life has a way of eroding your self esteem. At school I was tall, gangly, and a little tubby. All together this made me, figuratively and literally, a big target. Back then it didn’t occur to me that one day I might become a God. If it had it probably would have made it less embarrassing at school when Barry Hines wobbled my boy-boobs in the changing rooms as he cackled hysterically.

But that was all a long, long, long time ago. Now I’m extremely comfortable with my Dad-bod. If you saw it, you might not think it was exactly the body of a God, but it’s my bod, and I am someone’s god, so in a way, it is. In fact, I highly recommend that everyone has someone to worship them as a God.

“Boobies!” My son shouts, pointing. I’m getting changed. “Look! Daddy’s got boobies!” He jumps up on to a convenient chair. “Daddy boobies! Daddy boobies! Daddy’s got boobies! Look at Daddy’s boobies! Daddy’s got boobies!”

He is laughing hysterically as he enthusiastically wobbles my boobies.

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