Yes, 18 years ago we were 3 weeks and a day past the due date, wondering if he would ever be born. I spent the day at the other kids' baseball and softball games, timing contractions. Ben was painting a house about an hour away. When the games were finally over, I took all the kids home, fed them dinner, gave them all baths, and got them in bed. At that point I called Ben and said, "I think you'd better come home," which he did. Our midwife got there around 9 p.m., and Man-boy was born at 12:20 a.m. on Mother's Day in 1993, almost 10 pounds. Our family would not be the same without him.
Here's a look at the many faces of Man-boy.
He even wrestles with the little kids.
Lover of his dog (somebody has to be),
and his truck (sounds like a country song).
Master of guacamole making,
and soccer player.
He has big muscles,
and makes potato guns.
He tolerates shopping with the girls,
and takes his role of uncle seriously. He's teaching Bean to appreciate pro soccer on the Internet.
Man-boy is a precious son. He loves the Lord, preaches to his peers, wins souls, and makes us proud every day.
Happy birthday, Man-boy.
Be thankful ~