Just to be clear. I was my wife’s midwife for our second child. The midwife never made it and I was trained to be her substitute. Thank God since I had to open the “veil” so that my child could come all the way down the birth canal. My wife did all the hard work, but I was there all the way for all the births. I didn’t find the births particularly feminine. They were watery bloody messes. Come on, it’s just like being a teacher. Messy.

I have many masks as a teacher. Sometimes I am a whisperer, sometimes I pretend to be hard of hearing, sometimes I am a concierge, sometimes a friend or an arch enemy, sometimes a coach and sometimes a preacher and sometimes a sinner. Messy. Metaphors are just a handle on a frying pan. They are aids to the task at hand. All metaphors are partial lies/partial truths as a matter of course.