So last week, when Elise and Jeannie were sick I took Matthew to pre-school. Once a week, I guess, the parents sit in a room and have a parenting class. They spent the first 45 minutes or so in a time they labeled “Joys and Concerns“. During the “Joys and Concerns” part of the show, people told one awful story after another about children melting down in stores while other shoppers just stared, dysfunctional family gatherings, siblings walloping each other, and little girls who won’t wear their coats or get dressed on schedule.

The saddest thing to me is that I actually enjoyed it a little. I don’t know if it was my recent reading of the novel “Fight Club” by Chuck Palahniuk or what but I really enjoyed listening to their stories.

The problem was that I wanted to inject humor into the discussion, which clearly was not on the agenda. I managed to censor myself successfully. Other parents would say something like “I notice children are often needy at six o’clock, maybe you should do you medical transcription later in the night.” I wanted to say “Have you thought about vodka on the rocks for breakfast?” or “Your assignment for the week is to start a fight with a stranger.”

I shared the only joy of the day. I said I had a nice trip on the train with Matthew. When I said this people just looked at me like I had gone for communion at church and said, “No thanks, I just ate I’m stuffed” or “Do you have the cheesy wafers?”

I have to go to this class more often.

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