So my first born son, Vincent, turns 15 today. He was born in the middle of the night (3:34am) and has been causing me grief in one way or another ever since (just kidding Vinny). He has been gone since Tuesday night, on a trip to the Iowa State Fair with his grandparents, where there was apparently an abundance of cow **** (as he put it in a text message to me) and not an appropriate place to wear flip-flops (I tried to tell him that before he left but he is a teenager and knows EVERYTHING). He is now at his dad’s house and will be home Sunday. I am sure he will have grown a foot by the time I see him again. I am sure I will be yelling at him again soon enough.