Post by Kris Thomas on Sept 26, 2004 21:45:26 GMT -5
Let me set the stage....July 20, 1997, the hottest day in history, I swear. I am 9+ months pregnant with Donnie and I's first child. Mark, Donnie and I are loaded up in Mark's TWO door Bronco with NO air condition dropping Mark's friend Luke off at his car. Mark has a great idea that Dairy Queen ice cream sure would help him cool off at bit in this hot Kansas weather. As we pull into the Dairy Queen parking lot, Mark decides that the drive thru line is way to long and he and Donnie will "very very quickly" go get some ice cream. Since I am too big to get in and out of his Bronco, I stay in the car. I am not sure if they were afraid of the heat melting their ice cream or if the ice cream girls were really hot, but they were in there for what seemed like an hour. Ok, it was probably only 10+ minutes, but way to d**n long. Finally Mark and Donnie come skipping out of the store. (OK men, now I know you can picture that little hop Mark has in his step when he is so proud of accomplising a task, in this case flirting with the ice cream girls.) Mark stops dead in his tracks with the "deer in the head lights look" peers in the window at me crying in the back seat. Yes, I am barely breathing, sweating like only a 9 month along pregnant women can sweat, and declaring I may be in labor. Mark looks Donnie straight in the eyes and says "nuts I am glad that she is with you!." Just for the record, I did give birth that night to a 7 pound 6 ounce baby boy. Mark did show up at the hospital later that night. If I remember correctly it was around 1am (after the bars closed of course.) None the less he was there for us at the birth of our first child.