I'll tell you more about what happened on hospital release day in my next blog because an equally ground-breaking event has just occurred: Jamie has had his first bath.
Life is, in many ways, a succession of landmarks and surely your inaugural dip must be up there amongst them.
Jamie's was certainly memorable for mummy and daddy. As for the centre of attention himself, I very much hope it has already been erased from his little memory as all did not go according to plan.
And I did think ahead. The Greatest Hits of The Waterboys were playing as he entered the bathroom. How more appropriate can you get?
The undressing went well, as did the wrapping him in the towel - each step as laid out in The NHS Pregnancy Book and read out loud by mummy (other than The Waterboys bit which the NHS bigwigs clearly hadn't thought of, one up to the Whites I'd say).
However, when it came to applying the water, the wheels came off the pram...er...wagon...well, he didn't like the experience any longer and made this point forcibly.
Washing his hair created the most difficulties for mummy and daddy as it was crusty, his head was still tender from the delivery and, despite mummy's delicate unpicking of the blood clots, he clearly didn't believe we loved him any more. The last three days were all an act, as far he was concerned (babies can be so shallow).
After about three minutes, the washing and rinsing were done and the towelling down began. Jamie didn't much like that part either.
On the upside, as soon as his fresh nappy and new little night outfit were safely on, the crying stopped as - hopefully - he realised how nice his hair was. And it did look good, there was no doubting it. A young Bono would be an obvious comparison.
He'll surely thank us in later years, especially when we show his first girlfriend the action shot. Or maybe he won't.
