Regina is Two!
Two and a half years ago, a doctor told us you were pretty much a miscarriage—85% chance. The news was given in an awfully dismissive manner, he might as well have finished it with, “that’s the way the cookie crumbles” and a shrug. I don’t think that doctor realized how close he came to having an angry man in a kilt fly across his desk and damage his face. Your Mother’s fingernails, when properly buried into my forearm can have…