I’ve been waiting so long for this first moment that I was convinced it would never happen… but, there you were. Like a little astronaut. Floating in your own private space, connected with your very own mothership. Six centimeters of cosmic miracle. A small piece of fast growing art only recombinant DNA from your mom and me could cook up.
I could see you were having a good time in there, as you bounced and danced around. Smaller than my watch, you clearly pack already enough energy to propel a decent sized Easter egg in an orbit around Saturn. I understand now why your mom says she can feel you moving from time to time.
All of the sudden there is so much I need to do. Grow up a bit for one, but not that much that I forget how to fly. And install your cradle. And read a book ‘becoming a dad for dummies’. Mentally prepare the cat for co-habitation. Choose a good name. I need to rent a baby somewhere, to practice that pamper ritual everyone is talking about.
Can you feel me when I touch your mom’s belly? I can feel you. I will start reading to you. Silly things with elves, disc worlds, planets, hidden valleys, one eyed pirates, crazy parrots and stardust. I’ll explain the world to you –its round you know, and it smells like spring right now- .
The world is also warming up a bit, and there is 7 billion of us worried and upset about that. You will be part of the generation that will bring us a solution. But do not worry about that yet.
Your cozy little galaxy is all set until end of October. I’ll be there when you decide to leave it. I honestly can’t wait…
J’ lui dis qu’elle est belle, comme un fruit trop mûr
Elle croit qu’ je m’ fous d’elle, c’est sûr
Quand j’ promène mes mains, D’ l’autre côté d’ son dos
J’ sens comme des coups de poings, Ça bouge
J’ lui dis “t’es un jardin”, “Une fleur, un ruisseau”
Alors elle devient, Toute rouge…Renaud
