My son, your daddy is not perfect.

You are a long way from being able to read this, my son. As I type these words on a cutting-edge computer that you will one day see as an antique, you are currently kicking your mum from the inside.

Something else you are doing is being very responsive to my voice – you become very active in there when I speak to you through her tummy. It must sound like thunder in there. Sorry about that, lad.

I wanted to tell you a bit about your dad. Me. I want you to know that, while you are a child, I may seem tall, strong and omnipotent. I may seem able to solve any problem and answer any question. I may seem odd and scary and strange and funny and happy and sad. I'm bits of all these things, but what I am not is perfect. I try my best, though. I will continue to do so once you're out here in the world, and will do everything I possibly can to ensure you are safe, loved and brought up to be a good person.

I am not perfect, but I will be the best dad that I can be. Remember, I've never done this before and I will no doubt make a lot of mistakes along the way, but I love you and will always do so. What I am not trying to do here is offer an excuse for being a bit rubbish at life.

I just want you to know I'll always do my best and be there for you, not because people have let me down in the past - which they have massively – but because I want to. I have to. You and your mum are the most important things in my world. Yes, more than the junk I collect and the stuff I talk about which probably bores you stupid. More than that old black guitar that I keep talking about. More than the CDs and books and magazines with my name on them.

I haven't even met you yet my boy, and yet you're the most important person I have ever had in my life. I'm not a millionaire or a scientist, a hero or an adventurer. I'm just me, a bloke bumbling from one ay to the next like everyone else. My son, your daddy is not perfect. However, I try my best. Love you, lad.