Death to Maternity Clothes
Lamaze Class from Hell
Disclaimer: As usual, I own no one!
A/N- I know not all "poor" people hate rich people. Just bear with me here. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dawn was determined to have a natural delivery.
Despite the high cesearean rate for twin births, she wanted to be prepared. That meant dragging Paul to a lamaze class every week.
Normally, Paul wouldn't have minded except for one slight problem.
They were the richest people in the class.
The only class Dawn could find with space was held in a church basement in a poor section of town. Despite the fact they were rich and lived 'on the other side of the tracks' (as the instructor so kindly put it), they would be added to the roster.
Paul didn't have a problem with this. He didn't flaunt his money around. He acted like a normal man. He drank beer and watched football. He didn't care about the price of apricot stock. His idea of relaxing wasn't jetting off to Aruba. It was spending time with his wife, preparing for the birth of their twins.
Unfortunately, the other 'students' hated rich people. A good portion of the class felt that just because Dawn didn't wear maternity clothes out of Wal-Mart or maternity clothes at all, she felt she was above the other women. A good portion of the men assumed Paul didn't watch sports, and that he hated beer.
Needless to say, Paul hated Tuesday night Lamaze class.
"Dawn, I'm not going," Paul said, crossing his arms. He was sick of getting put-down by the other students. He was always the one insulted by the men. Dawn had to take it from the women.
It wasn't fair.
"Please," she said, sticking her lower lip out. Paul sighed. How could he say no to a face like that?
"Fine, but they say anything to me, I'm leaving," he said, sighing. He knew he would be the one who spoiled the girls rotten, the one they ran to for permission for something Mommy would say no to.
They reached the class just in time. Birch Neil, the instructor was getting ready to start class. Paul found it hard to ignore twenty pairs of eyes drilling into him. It was a very icy atmosphere.
"Paul, Dawn, take a seat," Birch said, her french accent thick and hard to understand. "As I was saying, today, we are going to introduce ourselves and our unborn baby or babies. I shall go first." She took a deep breath. "I am Birch Neil. I am married to George. We have been together sixteen years since I was twenty. We have two daughters, Jordan Esther and Rachel Anne. I am six months pregnant with our first boy, Elijah Luke. I have breast-fed Jordan and Rachel, and I plan to breast-feed Elijah. Donna," She gestured to the pregnant woman beside her.
"I am Donna Schaefer. I am married to Jim. We have been married for ten years. We have four children, two boys and two girls. The girls are Janie Lynn, and Sarah Marie. The boys are Edgar Charles, and Harold James. I don't know what my fifth baby is. We have names chosen but we can't reveal them. Because of our religion, we don't believe in birth control," the pudgy red-head said. Her husband, a short, overweight man with a bushy black beard, nodded vigourously in agreement.
"I'm Tiffany Cooper. This is my boyfriend, Justin Anthony..."
Paul began to space out. He didn't care about who believed in birth control or who had six kids. All he cared about was making Dawn happy.
Then, it was their turn.
"I am Dawn Marie London. This is my husband, Paul. We've been married about five months. We're having twin girls, Sienna Patrice and McKinley Pierce. They're due in about six weeks. They are our first but definately not last babies. I met Paul while I was in the wrestling business," Dawn said. She squeezed Paul's hand, the other students snickering.
After the last couple had been introduced, Birch stood up and clapped her hands. Paul scootched over towards Dawn. "What? Is she teaching pre-school?" he whispered in her ear.
"I think she thinks so," she said. "Does anybody have any questions?"
"Paul, Dawn, just know you've set your gals up for a bad experiance in high school with those rich girl names!" Donna exclaimed, laughing. Paul moved to get up. Dawn made him stay. She refused to let the other people know they were getting to her.
The next half hour was spent, insulting Dawn and Paul's name choices. Finally, one comment pushed Paul over the edge.
"Paul, your rich bimbo used to be hot!" Jim Schaefer exclaimed. Calmly, Paul got up, walked over to Jim Schaefer and ... punched him in the jaw.
"Come on," Paul said, taking Dawn by the hand. "I found a BETTER lamaze class at the hospital." Shaking her head, Dawn sighed.
That was her husband all the way.
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Once again, I realize not all lower and lower middle class people hate rich people. This group does. Just wanted to clarify :)
Jen