Proud Father V0 13 0 Easter Westy < LIMITED 2025 >

Theo’s eyes widened. He ran to the kitchen. A pause. Then a shriek: “He took ONE BITE.”

But this Easter, in this small house in West Yorkshire, with a sleeping boy and a squashed Peep on the carpet, I felt something close to completeness. proud father v0 13 0 easter westy

This was .

By 8:15, we were outside. Theo in his wellies. Me in last night’s hoodie. We walked to the little park at the end of the street, the one with the wonky roundabout and the bench dedicated to someone’s gran. Theo had a small basket with three eggs left (the rest already eaten or lost in the couch cushions). Theo’s eyes widened

For the uninitiated: fatherhood doesn’t ship as a finished product. You don’t wake up on delivery day with a gold master. You get an alpha—crying, sleepless, terrifying. Then beta: the walking, the talking, the tantrums in the cereal aisle. Each holiday, each season, each tiny catastrophe and triumph increments the version number. Then a shriek: “He took ONE BITE