Twenty-eight years ago today my son was born. Yet it doesn’t seem like 28 years has passed. I remember it like it was yesterday. Cleaning the house all day long. His dad coming home from work and it dawning on me that I was in labor, and a very easy one at that. Dr. Loschen delivering my little, adorably cute, 8 lb. 3 oz. baby boy and immediately getting pooped on by him. It was the night J.R. Ewing got shot on Dallas. I had to catch it on reruns. Despite that, I am extremely proud and honored to call him my son. I love you, Nick! Happy Birthday.
Oh yeah, that flat screen TV is on it’s way. Ha!! 😀