The realization doesn’t come to you in a eureka moment. It doesn’t hit you in the face suddenly. Instead, it gradually bubbles up through the murky swamp water of every day life – here a mossy hint, there a slimy clue. You can’t articulate it – at least not fully. Not until you’ve spent a week doing absolutely everything you can imagine to completely delight four children. And as one of them stands in your lap so he can stretch through the sun roof of the car to give food pellets to a giraffe in a ridiculously crowded wildlife park, you can put words to what you know: you are on your way to being the man you always hoped you’d be.