When my first child, Stephen, was born he weighed only 4 lbs and 12 ounces. The "happy event" was the end of a long series of frightening moments, risks and dangers that I fretted through but didn't really understand. The nurses shepherded me out of the operating room. They took me away from my wife, Ellen, and led me to the newborn intensive care unit. In a clear plastic box there I was shown something that looked like the live version of a puppet to represent a red-skinned alien in a B-grade sci-fi movie. Fortunately we discovered that looks are not everything.
We had more children and discovered that all of them were "Aliens from Planet Mom", even though they didn't start out with the obvious outward signs.
That is why I call myself RAD (my initials) Alien Dad.
RADAlienDad.
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