Thirteen years ago after just having received my epidural, D took off to get some lunch because he was feeling a little queezy after seeing the needle go in my back. I reassured him that I would be fine now that I wouldn't be hurting anymore. He just ran down the little hill from the base hospital to Hardees where he enjoyed a burger, fries and a Dr. Pepper I'm sure.
Next thing I knew, the nurse said that the baby was crowning and I was ready to push. They called the Hardees and told them that a Captain L needed to race up the hill because his wife was having a baby. He left his lunch there and ran up just in time to find me pushing my baby out.
That baby was G. He has been an absolute joy since the day I had him. He was our "joy" in those hard four months of the motel living just twelve days later.
I love you G. Happy Birthday! I can't believe you're a teenager!