I posted this to my LiveJournal on this day last year, but I no longer really use LJ and a lot of you reading this now didn’t know me a year ago, so I thought I’d repost. If for no other reason than: It’s my birthday and I’ll post if I want to!
One of my favorite stories of my childhood didn’t happen during my childhood, but a week or so before my actual birth day. Obviously, my parents tell it much better than I do, since they were there and all; but I’ll do my best. (And hope that Mom and Dad forgive the errors.)
Before I get into the story, thanks to everyone who’s already wished me a happy day and advance thanks to those who will as the day goes on (this is not an attempt to “guilt” anyone into saying the words; I’m just saying). And now, without further ado:
Grand Rapids, Michigan, January 1979
A blizzard rages (or had raged; the point is, there was a LOT of snow outside). Safe and warm in their house, Mom and Dad are settled in for the evening when Mom starts to get those familiar pangs (after all, she’d already been through this with my sister seven years prior).
“David,” says she, “I think it’s time.”
Brave, stout man that he is, Dad bundles up and heads out into the cold while Mom prepares to leave to deliver her second child. Shovel in hand, Dad surveys the yard: the car, driveway, street are buried in feet of snow. He puts his head down and sets to work; he must clear a path.
After many long minutes of back-breaking shovelling, the car is uncovered, the driveway clear… enough. Dad stands at the entrance to the street and wonders how he’ll ever drive through this mess.
“If only a snow plow would come by,” he thinks.
No sooner has the thought passed than flashing lights appear at the end of the block! Dad waves them down and explains to the driver:
“My wife is in labor; we have to get to the hospital!”
The knight in shining plow gallantly drives up into the driveway, clearing it fully, then sweeps away the snow on the street, opening the way to the intersection with the major road, already clear and waiting. Dad waves to the driver, shouting his thanks, before turning to get into the car…
Only to find it again buried by the spillover from the plow’s move up the driveway! With a heavy sigh, Dad picks up his shovel and unearths (unsnows?) the car a second time. Transport finally sorted, he and Mom rush to the hospital….
…to find that it was FALSE LABOR. (I was so mean! ;-D )
After a week of Braxton Hicks, I finally made my début into this goodly frame the earth on 20 January, round about 5:30 in the evening, Eastern Time. Right on time, by the doctor’s prediction of my due date. I guess I just decided to mess with Mom and Dad for a few days first. )