7th June, 2007. That's exactly when I decided that I was willing, nay, wanting, or may I even be loathed to say 'craving' to become a Dad.
Married for close to two years, and partners for nearly seven before that, my wife and I (herewith christened 'Little Mama' for my own personal amusement, and her annoyance should she ever read this) had always acknowledged some floating intention to have children, sometime, somewhere, at a point in time unknown to civilisation, in a place not yet discovered.
This was an arrangement that suited me just perfectly.
I have honestly no idea why or how it came upon me, the best way I can describe it is that I got hit in the gut and was winded. But instead of discomfort, what I felt was an overwhelming confident and assured feeling that the time was right, and it had to be now.
I decided to keep my mouth shut (for fear of Little Mama having me committed) and intended to sleep on the idea and wake up the next morning with my senses reinstated and continue with my self absorbed and thoroughly enjoyable life.
I did not.
I awoke on Friday 8th June, 2007. Even more blubby and dreamy and hormonally imbalanced than any man should be. 2 cans of red bull on the motorway later, I knew this was it, my mind was made up, albeit by someone or something unknown to me.
Like all good textbook romances I emailed Little Mama at work to tell her I had an 'idea'. Now, it's not normally very easy to read a groan in an email, but I'm sure it was there in her reply.
Later that evening, sprawled on the couch as I wiped pizza from my chubby face, she asked what my big idea was.
My response: ' I think we should start a family'.
There, I'd said it, it was out there never to be retrieved or hidden under a cardigan, & worse still - we were both completely sober.
I continued to lie in what I was starting to realise was a ridiculous position on the sofa for for such a significant moment, now terrified in the dawning realisation that I had not thought this passage of events through sufficiently in advance.
Too late to save the half chewed pepperoni deluxe from hitting the floor, not a pretty site, might I add, Little Mama finally closed her lower jaw, leaned over, planted one on me, before we silently retired to the bedroom for our last threesome in the company of Mr Contraceptive pill.
At 4am with half an eye open, I poured myself and the kitchen floor a glass of water & decided to take the evenings events as a sign she was on board.
Oh Christ, what HAVE I gone and done....