When my wife Christy was pregnant with our first daughter, we did the breathing classes where they teach dads how completely useless they’re going to be during the delivery process. Remind your wife to breath. Yeah, that’s helpful. It’s like giving a toddler a spoon to go stir their play-doh so they can “help” you cook dinner.
At the end of the class they offered a tour of the hospital to get parents oriented before the big day. Christy suggested we go, but I would have none of it.
“Honey,” I said, “I’m a minister. I’ve visited a ton of people there. You don’t need a tour. You have me!”