"I'm tired...I'm having this baby today!" I said to "Baby Daddy" who just smiled (that damn condensending smile) and said, "Okay. You said that last night." "No, I mean right now!" I said but while he made a beeline to the bedroom closet to get my bag, I plopped myself in our living room recliner. I suddenly decided that I wasn't going anywhere. I was perfectly fine sitting in that chair while "Baby Daddy" was jumping around trying to find his car keys. How is he supposed to get me to the hospital when he can't even find his keys? So he found the keys and said, "Let's go." "I'm not going anywhere." I said. Okay. I was in just the tiniest bit of pain and I was even a little scared. So I thought if I just sat there really still--the baby might just show up! But Baby Daddy was on his knees in front of me watching me like I would explode at any second. "Okay, okay! If it'll make YOU happy, I'll go to the hospital." I said. So, he escorted me to the car like a policeman putting a 'perp' under arrest. I swear he drove 104mph. from our house to the hospital, magically produced a wheelchair, took me to our room and was in full 'coach mode.' I did manage to convince Baby Daddy to turn on our room's TV and fully expected him to start giving the midwife 'signs' like a catcher to a major league pitcher. Even though there was a scare with the umbilical cord around his neck, at 9:14pm, Tuesday December 6, 1994 our beautiful son arrived...during a commercial break of TV's "Frasier." Happy 19th Birthday, Son!
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