My housemate is a natural, born worrier. He frets about the flat, the neighbours, putting the food back in the fridge properly covered, cleaning work top surfaces and other such details.
Ever since he acquired a little additional flatmate, he has added one more thing on his worry list. One of the first evenings after her arrival, I was feeding her and when I moved her a bit she made a kind of squeeping noise. In rushed the housemate with a ready glare to find out what I had done to her.
He would be the last person to call himself a new age man and doesn’t even like to use my ‘girly’ shower gel when his runs out. Recently however he has been amazing with the baby. He can’t feed her but he does take down the garbage which I haven’t done for a few months.
He changes nappies and washes the changing mat. He holds her when she’s fussing or sleeping or cooing. He’s her biggest fan and will hold her while he’s on the computer and is the only one out of the two of us who can swaddle her properly as if she’s in a cocoon.
In the morning he always comes in to say hello to us and is usually late because we take time to admire how beautiful she is.
He almost always makes dinner. When I was ill last week he took care of her from the time he came home from work until he had to go to bed so I could get some sleep.
Luckily he can’t hear her scream during the night (although she rarely gets too vocal) because if he did he might be a little less enthused in the mornings.
When I told him I was pregnant he was the first to hug me as he wished me congratulations.
When I was seven months pregnant he sent me off to the movies and swapped our rooms around on his own. Bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and loads of crap that I had lying around. He had originally slept in the bigger room which was the only one that fit the cot and the baby things so he offered it to me instead.
He put up curtains so the baby would be able to sleep and he stayed with me throughout the whole labour and birth. Hopefully, the latter didn’t put him off women for life.
Over the years, we have had both sets of parents over for various visits and have had confused questions from each pair about whether we would be getting back together or indeed, after we both hit 30, why we didn’t just get married.
Eight years on and we’re both a little stunned to still be living together as I’m raising this little person with lots of help from him. So far not too many worries though.