So now I’m going to Lamaze class.
I got so many problems with this I don’t know where to begin.
This was brought upon me one night when she asked me if I wanted to go with her or should she ask her female lesbian friend to go. I guess as opposed to her male lesbian friend. I should fix that, but I’m not…
Anyways I ain’t letting my wife go to Lamaze with someone else, of course I’ll go.
Before the day arrives I keep hearing about the times when she first went to lamze.
“Wait!” If you went to Lamaze before, why do you need to go again?”
“I’m going for you.”
“But I didn’t…..yes dear”
I swear I should keep my testicles in the freezer next to the placentas.
Anyways…Lamaze…me and a bunch of other guys who were just flabbergasted at spending 2 hours (she told me 1) a week watching videos of women having a baby.
I mean, nobody prepares a guy for what his participation is during labor.
Every guy that’s never had a kid is now saying “What participation” EXACTLY!
I thought all I had to do was give her a ride to the hospital and smoke cigarettes until they brought out my son. Why on Earth would I need a class to show me how to do that?
I mean, me and the other guys there were just floored at the shit we learned. For instance did you know you’re not supposed to have sex after her water breaks? I swear she told us that. Whatever, Libby breaks water, surfs up dude!
After like hour one I got bored and thought about how I could freak the instructor out and embarrass Libby, like say things such as “Man…if these bitches didn’t just pull out none of us would have to be here.”
But nothing I could have said would have topped the stoner kid there. He was a gem. I liked how the instructor brought out a pregnancy ball and he proceeded to play soccer with it.
But the best was when we were laying on the floor doing relaxation techniques. I’m doing my best Samuel L Jackson “Be cool, bitch…bitch be cool” when I look over at Stone Philips and he’s resting his elbow on his….ladyfriend’s(?) shoulder.
The other women in the room batted their eyes and swooned in envy towards the Excalibur of men.
So the whole thing wasn’t that bad. I learned that women can walk during labor. My understanding was they were lying down through the whole thing. No way, Jose, they can walk. This is good because I sure as hell ain’t carrying her.
I also leaned how nature makes you grow up. For instance (I’ll be delicate, I’m writing this at work) like most males from the age of 18 I was fixated on a certain anatomy part of females.
That ended last night. I’m cured.
I can finally be friends with women now.