Richard Baum

It is a rare and unpleasant day when I am forced to confirm to my mother (who lives up the road and who sees me several times a week) that I have not become a father. And yet that is what I am forced to do now.

Last night at Council, Cllr Bernie Vincent offered me his congratulations on the birth of my daughter.

“That’s nice,” I thought “if a little odd, given that she’s yet to be born or, I hope, conceived.”

I queried the nature of the congratulations, just to be sure. Apparently Richard Baum has recently become a dad, and has boomed out his pleasure from the pages of the Jewish Telegraph, for the entire local community to see.

“Hmm…” I said “That really isn’t me.”

So, to answer the age old question of “who’s the daddy?” let me say loud and clear that whilst it is Richard Baum, it’s not me.

Unfortunately for us both, it is clear that Richard Baum and I are crippled with the same socially challenging name. And unfortunately for me on this occasion, I am slightly better known. Resultantly I have received some odd congratulations today. The best was a letter I received from the Honorary Secretary of Heathlands Village, the Jewish old people’s community in my ward, who offered me mazeltov on the birth of my darling daughter.

It was a lovely letter, and I have written back telling him as much. But, alas, it was completely wasted on me.

I don’t know what’s more worrying - that lots of people think I now have a child when I don’t, or that the community thinks I’ve got a child but barely anyone’s bothered to wish me well.

So Mum, when you read this, take comfort in the knowledge that you aren’t a Grandma yet, and rest easy that you’ll be the fourth to know when you are (after me, the mother and the kid).

And, to the real Richard Baum, congratulations. I wish you and young Isabella Mya all the happiness in the world.

Rick