SHE THREW UP

Dear Spike:

Your mother often says that she knew I loved her when she threw up on me, just a few weeks after we started dating.

Tonight, I think I finally understood what she meant.

You were sleeping when we picked you up your Auntie Sue's house, where you had stayed while we went out to dinner with some friends. But you woke up on the way to the car ...

... and promptly threw up on your mom's pretty white dress.

But she didn't flinch. And she didn't complain. She toweled you off, set you in your car seat, and sang to you all the way home — even though she smelled as though she'd taken a bath in sour milk.

If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Love,
dad