There is still no cure for the common birthday. - John Herschel Glenn Jr.

Ten years ago today I returned from the Dinner Shift at DACC's at about 12:30 AM. I was hot, sweaty, smelly and beat (which, by an odd coincidence, is the name of the last Law Firm I worked at). I followed the usual routine - dinner and a beer or two. A quick shower and flop into bed in hopes of a five or six hour of sleep before Trish had to get ready for work.

No such luck.

Two and a half hours later, Trish woke me up - the contractions had started, she thought. They had not only started but were already 3.5 minutes apart. We called the Doc, and got to the Hospital at about 5. At 6 I called the owners to say I would wouldn't be showing up that night - we had been planning for that. By 7:30 we were told the birth was imminent. At 8, we were asked if some nursing students could watch the delivery. Heck, a lot of the nurses hung around. We had an eclectic musical selection.

It seemed we were ready to deliver.

Again, no such luck.

At 4:30, after hours of pulling, pushing and bouncing on a big silver ball, Trish was prepped for a C. At 5:06pm a cook was born: Elanor Gordon Harris - 7lbs. 10 oz.

Happy 10th birthday, bug.

Love,
Daddy!