As I noted a couple of weeks ago, Lindsey and I are all about passing our child off into the arms of just about anyone who has never been the inspiration for an episode of Breaking Bad. (BTW, I'm in the middle of binge watching that show right now. Woah. Heavy stuff, bro.) We took our predisposition for passing the baby buck to a new level this week by enrolling Coop in YCW. (To the uninitiated, that stands for "Young Children's World", a program run by our church.) It was Lindsey who suggested this course of action which is good since I didn't even know we could take babies to YCW because, you know, I only work at the church, I can't be expected to pay attention to what's actually happening there. So we signed him up months ago, probably before he was even born, and classes began on Monday. My little buddy was pretty stoked for his first day because A.) He loves people and B.) He is a baby and therefore had no idea that he was about to spend the day with a complete stranger.
This kid is a loyal fan. He wears his Rangers gear even when they're playing like garbage. We packed him up and took him to Baby School where I'm assuming he will be learning how to fart more proficiently and possibly how to shove his entire hand into his mouth. I mean, he's already pretty good at both of those things but he's probably not quite ready to go pro just yet.
Last week we came up to fill out all of Cooper's paperwork and met his teacher, Ms. Kathy, and got a chance to see his room. It's kind of weird seeing my kiddo's name on a placard above a cubby hole, mostly because it's just another reminder that I am an adult and in charge of a human life, even though I have spent an inordinate amount of time this week playing Madden. (Also I had to Google "cubby hole" to make sure that was a real thing. So that's a part of my search history I'll never be able to take back.)
Lindsey signed him in, I handed him over, and then we took the obligatory "First Day of (Fake) Baby School" picture with his teacher. Because we're nothing if not traditionalists. Now, I have had multiple friends, who know me to be a complete wuss who tears up during Google commercials, if I cried when dropping the kiddo off. The answer: surprisingly no. It's hard to get all worked up when A.) Your office is approximately 200 feet from the room your son is in and B.) Dropping your kid off for a few hours gives you license to go home and take a nap. Naps trump tears every time, friends.
And anyway, I'm pumped that he's getting to experience this, even if he's too young to know what he's experiencing. He'll get to be around three little friends he wouldn't be around otherwise, he gets even more experience hanging out with adults who are not his parents, and he will be surrounded by our friends who work in YCW and will get the opportunity to be blessed by the gifts that they bring to their place of work. Plus, did I mention my nap?
Naps should be part of the standard work day, Brian