Fine, Tony wasn't a parent, he had no idea how exciting it was to watch the drooling poop-machine turn into a slightly more awake drooling poop-machine, at least not in any way that he thought could be shared. It didn't seem press conference worthy, the press were very difficult to keep interested, even when Tony thought Dum-E remembering not to drop anything was a breakthrough. It was exciting enough that Joe existed and Tony got to meet him, though, so he had to acquiesce, "Yeah, relax about it, you'll have more gifts to open than your wedding." He didn't really want to acknowledge the 'waiting for you to call me' CTA, but it was there, blinking at the edge of his vision, so he said, "I figured you were busy, you know, you had better things to do, you're learning to cook. Listen, when gals I know have kids, the most contact I usually get is a warning of an impending paternity test that never shows, and then they're gone to live their lives. I'm not the type you keep around when you're..." Obviously, 'normal' couldn't be the right word, not in most situations and definitely not with Wicked, but Tony tried to gesture his way toward the point he was trying to make. Which was, simply, "I thought you were happy." Again, subjective, Tony was completely aware of the unending shittrain of traumas Wicked had been dealing with since forced to leave Earth, but a person made systems to deal with that kind of disaster, including cutting out anything that took too much effort for not enough reward. "But I'll take the test. I mean, I think I would remember that, but my track record there isn't stellar."