The nurse handed over my first-born wrapped in a tiny pink blanket. Transfixed by the onslaught of emotion, I gazed into her angelic face while wondering what in the hell I was going to do. Thirteen months later, this same scene repeated itself.
A Midwesterner by birth, my only goal upon college graduation was moving to Montana to become a mountain man. I moved to Montana, but instead of being swept downriver by a rushing current, I was swept off my feet by a woman. We married and had two daughters before I ever arrowed an elk.
Football, fishing and hunting, these are the things I understand. I was supposed to have sons...
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