Family: The new parent trap
From the June 2016 issue of The Rotarian
When my wife, Erin, first got pregnant, we did what almost every newly expectant couple does: We enrolled in a childbirth class. Every Thursday night, we wandered down to the musty basement of a nearby hospital, where a cheerful woman named Susan offered us first-time parents a graphic account of all the joyous terrors to come.
At 39, I expected to be the senior member of the group. In fact, at least five dads appeared older than me. One guy in particular, mostly bald and hobbled by a balky knee, looked to be in his 50s. He never wanted to sit on the…
