In 1974, Marge was pregnant and due in July. We were taking Lamaze classes to prepare for the delivery. So, we went to Lamaze class on Friday, June 14th. Around 1 AM on Saturday morning, Marge woke me complaining about pains/cramps so she called the hospital and they advised her that we would probably have a Father's Day gift. Around 5 AM, Marge woke me again and said her water broke so we called the hospital and said we were on our way. Then I realized that I had a whole shift of workers coming to our Distribution Center that morning for overtime and I was the only one with keys and the security codes. We got to the hospital at 6 AM and I was sent to the waiting room. Then I see a doctor running down the hall and a nurse throws me scrubs and tells me to hurry up. Bret was born 15 minutes after we got to the hospital. I still made it to work to open the warehouse by 7AM. Now the kicker - I got a flat tire on the way home!
After we moved to our new home in Carver, Marge's mother and fiancee' came to visit in his new Cadillac. Bret was around 2 years old at the time. At one point, everybody was wondering where Bret was. We found him in the driveway with a screwdriver trying to remove the headlights from the Cadillac. Many times Bret wouldn't go to sleep without a power tool in his bed. We would have to go in later and remove the tool.
When Bret was still a toddler, Marge and I would work different shifts so someone would be home with Bret. Marge was working days and I was working nights. I would get home around midnight and Marge would feed Bret breakfast and then turn on Captain Kangaroo or Sesame Street. Bret would then wake me when the show was over. One morning, he did not wake me up. When I got up and went to the kitchen, there was flour all over the place. Bret had moved a chair, climbed up to the counter, and pulled out bag of flour. That week, Marge and I realized that Bret was all we could handle and we decided that he would be our only child.