A Bundle of Joy

They had just acquired a new television and the mother was busy, through labor pains, trying to explain how to use it to her three children as she anxiously awaited her mother-in-law to come up to watch them.


The father was frantic that her contractions were too close and that they really, really, should be going. The mother had been through it all time and again. This was old hat and she was certain she still had plenty of time.


Finally, at 8:30 p.m. they began their 8 mile journey to the hospital.


At 10:38 p.m. it was over (mostly). A boy was delivered, seven pounds eight ounces and 21 inches long. All eyes and hungry as all getout he was nevertheless healthy and happy as was the mother.


This was September 6, 1966.


The boy was me.