Duped

Yesterday we spent the day trapped in a nightmare scenario in this building.  Or so The Swede expected.  I had signed us up for a first-time parent’s class at the local medical building with five other couples from our area who are due around the same time and The Swede couldn’t have been less excited.  In fact, he was dreading it and stressed out for the rest of the weekend once he remembered early Sunday morning that that was how we’d be spending our Monday.  Sitting in a circle and talking about our thoughts and feelings about the upcoming birth and parenthood is basically the worst thing he can imagine.  Which I get.  Kind of.  I mean, it’s not anything that would bother me (indeed, I was looking forward to it) but I could totally see where he was coming from.  Except it just wasn’t that bad.  It was kind of fun, actually, and on the way home The Swede began a dialog about how he never thinks he’s going to enjoy meeting new people but he always does.  We discussed why that may be and the fact that we probably would have never gotten together if he didn’t actually like meeting new people.  This went on for a while.  Then, just as I was beginning to tell him how glad I was to hear this revelation since we just moved to a new neighborhood and it would be nice to get to know some other young families he turns to me and shouts, Borat style, “NOT!”