‘Just enjoy yourself,’ say the babysitting in-laws, but surely they remember being this scared and clueless
It’s incredible how much I’ve learned about parenting in four months, like how many things fit inside my son’s mouth, the name for that soft bit at the top of his head, and the words to Baby Shark, Christmas Shark, Halloween Shark, and every other sequel in which the titular infant fish celebrates an increasingly tenuous series of seasonal festivals. More amazing still is the generosity with which I share this knowledge with others, like with my wife’s parents, who really must wonder how they managed to raise three kids without me around.
‘If he cries, pick him up,’ was one such timeless nugget. ‘If he needs sleep, just rock him,’ was another, in case their natural inclination would have been to throw the boy to some wild, scabby dogs.
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