My life in 250 words or less.

I was born... "to love you. I was born to lick your face. I was born to rub you. But you were born to rub me first." Ok, ok, that's not my life story, but who can name that movie line? Anybody who went to high school with me should know this one cold. Caddyshack, of course! So now you know I love Caddyshack and, during my formative high school years, I could quote large segments of that movie from memory.

I was actually born in Houston, Texas in the 1970s. My mom was a nurse. She died in a car crash seven years ago. She never met my youngest son. She will never see my little sister walk down the aisle. She didn't see my nephews graduate from high school. She was one of my best friends. I miss her.

My dad is a petroleum engineer. He is very smart. He and my mom gave us a stable, safe, happy home in which to grow up. He cannot say the words "I love you" to me, but I know he does anyway. He can hit a tennis ball so hard it breaks the sound barrier. He likes to say "that was riiiight good" and pat his belly after a big meal.

About 10 years ago, I started working for a really amazing lady named Cindy. She taught me so much, but one of the greatest lessons I took away from her is my ability to break out into show tunes at any moment. Trust me, if you had seen my shock and horror 10 years ago when Cindy used to do that during staff meetings, you would know how remarkable it is that I now, too, break out into song at inopportune times. (Particularly after a few drinks and at the front door as my dinner guests wait for the elevator. I do accept requests.)

Here's another factoid: I don't know how to spell "inopportune". I had to look it up. Thank goodness for spell check.

I have twins. Yes, twins run in my family. No, that is not why we had twins. Yes, infertility sucks. Two years after the twins were born, Dane arrived! For a while, I had three children under the age of three. Don't ask me who walked when or when they started teething. I. do. not. remember. Thank goodness for pictures, which I will someday organize into baby books. It's on my bucket list.

I love my husband. He is my hero. He has amazing strength. There is a deep river running under that burnt-orange-clad facade of his. I would tell you stories to illustrate this point, but that leads me to the next little factoid: I am a very private person. And anyway, if I told you the story, you'd be all sad and weepy, and who needs that on a Monday? But trust me. He's a rock.

Airports make me extremely nervous. Two years of flying in and out of Lagos' Murtala Muhammed International Airport have not toughened me up in any way. The only treatment is a liberal dose of gin and tonic.

Right now, I am really hungry.

And I went way over 250 words... sorry!

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