But who’s to say I’m capable of something like this? What if I fuck him up more than my mother has?” “You won’t, Atlas. You know you won’t.” He accepts my reassurance with a quick flash of a smile. “That’s easy for you to say; you’re a natural at this whole raising-kids thing.” “I just fake it well,” I say. “I have no idea what I’m doing. No parent does. We’re all full of imposter syndrome, winging it every minute of the day.” “Why is that both comforting and terrifying?” he asks. “You just summed up parenthood with those two words.”
