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Thinking back about it, I’m convinced that the biggest benefit to taking prenatal classes at the local hospital is the relief that comes from not being the most clueless person in the room.
Right now I lack the knowledge of how to hold a baby, let alone change one; my entire baby-holding experience consists of grasping an infant in two hands with my arms outstretched as it were a large black sphere with “BOMB” written on it and I were Adam West running along a pier.
Yet despite this, I now feel happy and confident that I am not the most clueless father-to-be. I am not the guy with the small notebook reading aloud as he writes “…baby…inside…needs to come…out…” and then, looking up, says, “So let me get this straight: There’s a baby… inside my wife?”