I used to give my dad shit for talking in the third person, “Dad has to go to work.”, “When your Dad was a kid…”, “Dad isn’t going to just let you win.” 

Now that I have a son, I get it.

Beyond the functional purpose of teaching a newborn who you are by referring to yourself as dad constantly, the third person helps you transition into your new parent alter ego. 

I chose Papa as mine. Dad sounded too real, and Daddy has a creepy tinge to it. 

The old me is still in here somewhere, but my time is now split with this new Papa character. 

I’m fond of strict routines, general order, and being selfish with my time. Also, relatively modest and often lack facial expression. 

This new Papa guy, on the other hand, wakes up at a different time every day, can go a week or two without skating, spends most of his time talking in weird voices, dancing, and doing anything to make his son laugh. 

Whether you’re interested or not, he’ll shamelessly tell you his son is the greatest in the world and has endless videos and photos to prove it. Not even Mama is spared from having to listen to how much Papa loves his son.

There’ll come a day when my son will look me in the eye and tell me I sound like a jackass for talking in the third person and calling myself Papa.

Until then, I’m Papa.

Learning to be someone bigger than myself.