Mommy and Daddy took me to a Super Bowl party. This is an event where people get together, eat food, watch large men in full pads hit each other and watch commercials. It's a yearly ritual. Daddy called it Man Day.
I got to meet more friends for the first time. Beatrice was there. Ryan was there. So was Ada and Owen and Tyler and Declan and Chase. New friends. Good times.
It was at this party where I learned a disturbing truth that I probably wasn't supposed to hear. Seems that one year ago, at last year's Super Bowl, Daddy's team won. They were named champions. It was a surprise. He cried. Mommy taped Daddy crying and put it on the internet. It was intense. It had a happy ending.
Some time later, there was another happy ending. I was conceived.
So, although this is a day where men celebrate what it means to be a man, it's got some added importance for me. I just don't know what to call it. Happy Anniversary? Happy Conception? Happy Touchdown?
I'm taking suggestions.
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