Budgeting in futility

“Love changes everything,” so says some line in a certain song. But to a man, a child changes everything. As any new father will testify, the carefree life one led before the arrival of a child fades into oblivion the moment that famed cry is heard in the maternity ward.

Almost two years ago, I heard a similar cry. Junior was making his glad entry into the world. You know the drill. Everyone paying homage to the little one — from family and friends looks elated. Hugs and kisses are exchanged as tears of joy flow freely. It is a happy moment for all. To the new father, however, apprehension builds within. Many will bear me witness that before the baby’s arrival, certain things were non-existent.

Take the case of drawing up a budget. Before a baby is born, the word budget was an imaginary wish list mainly associated with the annual government estimates made by Treasury mandarins. To be honest, these figures made little sense to me apart from making my head go round. Well, they still don’t save from the fact that the government says there is a shortfall of cash to spend and thus must tax the milk, Junior’s main lifeline.

I have heard friends raving about how they sit down as a family to draw up a monthly budget. They tell me that they look at the home’s particular needs and timings. Good for them. Junior has needs but their timing is a different matter altogether. His need for milk and diapers are spontaneous. My friends also say it is good to draw a budget for “future known expenses” whatever these might be. Falling sick in the middle of the night does not rank as a future known expense. My take? Drawing a budget that includes a fellow who has no respect for such formalities is an exercise in futility.