(My fourth grandchild was born February 9, 2012 at 1:30am. That was too late to prepare a proper account of things before this week's Lunar Report publication deadline. But there will be more on this topic. Oh yeh. Count on that.)

Here are the most important facts and occurrences of the night of Wednesday, February 8, 2012. My son's wife had been in painful labor for nearly nine hours when the main event of the evening began. If you don't know my family, then it's not what you think. If you do know my family, it's exactly what you think.

At nine o'clock that night, the only ones in that Mooresville, North Carolina hospital room were my son, of course his wife, and his wife's wonderful mom. It really was a long, painful and stressful day for my daughter-in-law. And for the other two there. The anticipation, the discomfort, the anxiety and apprehension must have been brutal for those three. But the process was about to begin. And it did. At precisely 9:05 PM Eastern Time.

That's when all hell broke loose. There was pain. There was jubilation There was a certain degree of ease and relaxation. Then more pain. More jubilation More angst. More joy. It was a two-hour ride on the Myrtle Beach Swamp Fox. An unrelenting roller coaster.

Energetic panic, screaming, yelling and God's name taken in vain. It all came from that room during those two hours that night. It was so bad that the hospital staff became a bit panicky themselves and quickly, yet professionally, entered that room to see what was troubling the mother-to-be.

My account of things here is second hand, so I am taking some fictional liberty. The night nurse, upon hearing the screaming and yelling, burst into the room.

“My God, is everything okay here?”

“He was all over his freakin' back!” my son explained.

“Who?” the nurse asked. “Has the doctor been here? Is your new son here? Coach Sandusky's not a family member, is he?”

“We're getting screwed,” my son replied.

“Look, there's no need to file a malpractice claim, sir,” the nurse seemed to beg. “We're doing our best here.”

“Oh man, he traveled!” said my son.

Nurse: “Well, yes sir. The doctor does live in Gastonia.”

Son: “He was hacked!”

Nurse: “Well, we did have to call him away from a cocktail party in Statesville. ”

Son: “What are you doing, Roy?”

Nurse: “Actually, the doctor's name is Ervin.”

Son: “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nurse: “Look. Your doctor's name is Ervin. He was at a cocktail party in Statesville, but he is traveling here as we speak, and he is not hacked. He is a professional. He would never show up for a delivery hacked.”

Son: “What?”

“Everything will be just fine,” the nurse said. “Just relax and breath. ALL of you.”

“How in the hell could you miss that shot?” my son asked.

“Sir, we keep immaculate records here,” the nurse responded. “I assure you, no shots have been missed.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No sir.”

“That last second crap just pisses me off!”

“Look, we are prepared here,” the nurse said. “We leave nothing to the last second.”

“Damn,” my son replied.

“There is no need to curse, sir.”

“What? Uh... what? Oh, never mind. So what's up with my wife and our baby?”

“Well, sir, I've been trying to explain, and....”

“Explain what? When?”

“Sir,” the nurse said, “For the past two hours I have been trying to explain what's going on and I just don't...”

“Look, lady, I've been beside myself for the past two hours. Do you have any idea how stressful things have been for me and the wife?”

“Well, sir, yes I do. That's why I have been in and out of this room all night, trying to explain to you that everything is under control, and that you have nothing to worry about. We are doing all that...”

My son interrupted. “See, here's where you screwed up, lady. You never, EVER, try to explain ANYTHING to me while the wife, mother-in-law and I are watching a Carolina-Dook game on television! UNDERSTAND?”

“Uh, yes sir. I do now.”

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