I find it really hard to believe that it's a full thirteen years and a couple of days since I found myself, entirely accidentally and rather unexpectedly, in a birthing centre, in which Scott and Ivy's friend Krystal and I suddenly found ourselves looking after Sky McCloud (while Kurt Busiek was driving around looking for ginger ale, for reasons that are now swallowed by time). Krystal and I discovered we had a very limited repertoire of songs we both knew, so sang The Ballad of Sweeney Todd to the two year old to keep her entertained while Ivy did all the hard work further down the hall. And Scott either helped, or just came up with magnificent baby birthing theories. Or both.
And then there was Winter. Whose birthday was last Friday. Happy Birthday, Winter.
Labels: why I am a Fairy Godfather, Winter