How to Wash the Baby

This evening, Steve and I attended a baby class at one of the local hospitals. The room we arrived at was filled with couples of all sorts, an occasional single woman (whose husband couldn't make it) and us, the gay orthodox pair. The room had thin tables across the breadth of it, with plastic infant dolls at every place. On of the first things that the nurses talked about was how to take care of mommy. They of course turned to us before they started and said this part wouldn't interest us much. The next section of the class, they showed us a movie (sponsored by Huggies) about how to bathe your baby. Just about at this point, Steve and I looked at each other and starting laughing uncontrollably. We don't know anything!!!

The class was actually somewhat helpful, if only in making the birth that much more real. There we were, me and Steve, and our own (plastic) baby. The funniest moment was at the end of the evening. We were cutting out a little early, turning down the opportunity to watch a movie about car seats, we and a few other people. Joining us on our way to the parking lot was a somewhat fashionable couple who were having twins, and a very portly crew cut haired man in jeans and flannel whose wife had just begun labor that evening so he came alone. As we said goodbye we all got into our cars, and like in a scripted movie, the fashionable people got into their fancy SUV, the portly plaid man got into his enormous red pick up truck, and we, the gay couple....got into our white politically correct Prius. You couldn't have written it.