Yesterday afternoon I was driving Drew to football practice. I decided to take the girls with me, because Jake has a little girlfriend now and I couldn't trust he'd look away from his Google Chat long enough to even acknowledge that Emily and Molly were left in his care. See how responsible I am?
Anyway, we were moseying along and began talking about birthdays and times that the kids were born and so forth. I don't really know how the conversation started, and I don't really care. I was just happy that it wasn't the same ol' same ol' ... ya know ... me screaming at them the whole time the car was in drive.
So ... here we are, behaving like a functional family, talking about stuff. Drew mentions that he was born at 3:18pm and he believes that 3:18pm is the absolute BEST time to be born.
Thinking back to that day in August of 2000, I smiled. "Drew, man, that was the HOTTEST day! I will never forget it."
Drew replied, "It was the hottest day?"
I assured him it was as I glanced in my rear view mirror.
After a few seconds passed he continued, "No wonder I'm so good lookin'. It all makes sense now!"
With everything this family deals with, I'm glad we don't have to worry about adding self esteem issues to the list.
