Took The Boy to his first music class today. Terrifying. You gotta stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, clap, sing along and, of course, dance. I thought I was gonna pass out from panic. Hell, I barely saw The Boy for 20 minutes, I have no idea what the fuck he was doing during all this. And of course I was the only dude in the room, surrounded by about 20 women. Which could be a fantasy, except each of these women had obviously pushed another human being out through the doggie door, so it's a little weird.
When I walked in the room and sat down, there was a group of boys running around in circles in the middle. Maybe just under 2 years old. They're already sweating, carrying on like lunatics. One way I know my life has changed is that about a year ago, I would've seen this wrestling etc going on and thought ooooh, this is great! Headlock! Kill him! etc etc. Now I find myself gauging how long a nap each kid is working towards. Husky kid piledriving lil boy, 1 & 1/2 hours. Kid doing laps over and over, his mom's in for a treat - 2 hours. Kid who keeps walking into the glass door? Put him to bed, he's done for the day. This is what my life has become.
And since it was his first day, the Boy was pretty terrified. So everytime the teacher would bring stuff to the middle for the kids to grab and use (drumsticks, shakers etc) guess who had to go get ours? That's right. 20 tiny kids sprinting to the middle, and then my big ass lumbering in the grab a big silk scarf. Quite a visual I'm sure.
"The wheels on the bus goes round and round like Xmastime at the Pizza Hut buffet!!
Hahahahaa, you stupid fuck!!!!"
15 years later, that little shit still hurts my feelings. Sigh.
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