A Tree Falling in the Forest

When I was nine years old, I had to sit through a training course in order to be allowed to ride an ATV.
When I wanted to play Soccer in Junior High, I had to get a physical. Cough, cough.
When I wanted to get my learner permit, I had to take driver training.
When I wanted my driver’s license, I had to take a written test, an eye test, and driving test.
When I wanted to go to college, I had to take the SATs, fill out an application and write an essay.
When I wanted to go to grad school, I had to take the GREs, fill out an application and write several essays.
When I wanted to go to work for the government, I had to have an extensive background investigation and take an oath.
When I wanted to get married, I had to ask my wife’s parents for permission, get a license, go to premarital counseling, and say vows.
When I wanted to buy a house, I had to get insurance and sign a pile of papers.
When I wanted a dog, I (or rather my wife) had to go to South Carolina to avoid home visits and signing away our live to the ASPCA.
Yet, to be entrusted with a very small, very fragile, living baby I have to ummmm, well, let me think… No test, no license, no oath… huh?
Oh man, it’s like handing me the keys to a Learjet. Don’t worry Dad, I’ll figure it out. To make matters worse, my fatherhood mentors are named Andy, Big A, Guido, Dick and Buster - all of them more than 600 miles away. I hope my wife knows something I don’t… but I think that is probably a pretty safe bet. Although, she did marry me. Maybe that was just a temporary lapse in judgement.