Lamaze class is like going to a school dance. You have all the guys on one side of the gym terrified. All the girls on the other side are getting ready to cry if no one asks them to dance.
So there I am, minding my own business when all of a sudden the Lamaze instructor points at me, she asks, “What would be your worst fear?” Holy Crap! That’s like playing, “Red Rover! Red Rover! We call Jayson over!” with a bunch of pregnant women! If I get the wrong answer, my life would surely be snuffed out by 15 chemical imbalanced pregnant women.
I said a quick prayer…stood up, did a couple stretches, limbered up… The answer could require a quick escape.
Then it hit me! I actually knew the answer! With great confidence I said, “My worst fear would be having my mother in-law come over day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.”….Damn, wrong answer. 14 males laughing quickly turned into 14 terrified men at the opposite end of the room. But that’s ok because I know the language of love…”Oh right, sorry, I didn’t know.” (see blog – The Language of Love)