So today I’m celebrating the Labor Day holiday with a quiet day at home and then a doubles dart tourney tonight.  But this day is much more special than that.  Let me tell you why.

I recall a September 7th way back in 1975.  I was playing in a softball game in Orange County, California.  Around the 3rd inning or so, Bridget (my former wife) complained about not feeling well.  Of course, I was all about the game and I advised her to just relax in the bleachers until the game was finished.  At the beginning of the 5th inning, my sister-in-law Kathy who happens to be an RN told me I really needed to take Bridget home so she could lay down.  So, in frustration I relented and told the guys I had to leave mid-game.  I wasn’t happy about it, I remember that.

Yeah, I know.  At 20 I was not the sensitive, caring, emotionally grounded individual that you see today.  You see, Bridget was 8 months pregnant at the time.  On the drive home she kept moaning about “the pain”.  It seemed to come and go every several minutes.  She said she might be going into labor.  Of course, I knew better than that seeing as how she wasn’t due until October.  Being 20 years old and wise to the ways of the world, I confidently told her that she was experiencing what is known as “false labor”.  Despite my reassurances, Bridget continued with her moaning.  So, just to prove my point and said “fine, let’s go by the hospital they’ll tell you the same thing.”

Which I then proceeded to do.  And where two hours later my first born daughter came into this world.

Happy Birthday Renee!  I love you.