Contemplation of a baker's dozen

St. Patrick's Day has come and gone. For some, it signifies the consumption of green beer. For others, it signifies a dignifies celebration of a Saint of old. For me, for us, it is our anniversary.

In 1997 I was definitely with the green beer crowd. However, there were constraints. I was in pursuit of my bachelor's degree in business administration, that particular date was the first night of Business Law. As I sat and waited for class to begin, watching fellow classmates filter in, in walked a beauty with long dark hair and brown eyes. Life hasn't been the same since.

Shanna & I married a year-to-the-day later. We've had many a joy, and thankfully, not many tribulations. We've spawned some kids, acquired some memories, and had some wonderful adventures.

I like St. Patrick's Day. And I'll have a beer while I'm at it.

Things that go bump in the night

"What are you doing?" No answer. And again, with more emphasis, "What are you doing?" Oh. Now wish I had added a "nevermind" in my best Roseanne Roseannadanna voice.

What a way to wake up, I had just accused my wife of being my son - I think.

And I blame it on squarely on Galen and Liam. My sleeping, unconscious brain clearly thought one of the kids was pillaging the closet. Without performing a verification protocol, without asking Shanna to check on the noise, hell, without rolling over to see if she was still in bed, I demanded "What are you doing?"

I do plead innocence, my defense is two-pronged:

1. Liam does like the closet. Galen does like opening doors.
2. My sleeping mind is trained to respond to possible kid-created noises.

Thankfully she recognized the humor. Thankfully I hadn't yelled some sleep-induced expletive. Thankfully she didn't harass me for enjoying last night's Tequila. No way it was booze; it was the kids.