The New Kid in Class

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I was the new kid in my 3rd grade class and I didn't have many friends.

And when you're the new kid in class, all you care about is making friends. You need more. You need them now. You can't be alone.

So you show-off. Or at least that's what I did.

I'd show off on the playground. I wanted them to see how good I was at sports.

I started caring about the clothes I wore. I ditched my sweatpants for jeans. And as you'll see in a bit, that was a mistake.

I remember one day we were all in class and the teacher had to step out for something. It was a golden opportunity to stand out.

When the teacher was out of the room, I jumped up on my desk, put my hands behind my head and started gyrating my hips. Super cool, right?

At first, I thought everyone was loving it. They were laughing. They thought I was a rebel. Success.

Then I saw them pointing.

Then I saw them laughing even harder.

I looked down.

The fly to my jeans was wide open.

Keep on Fighting

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She was pregnant. Due in less than a week. I was sick. Sick again for the second time in two weeks.

My wife and I were out for lunch. I was trying to act like a normal human. I’m sure my wife was too. I can’t image what she was going through at 9 months pregnant. Women are strong.

Me on the other hand, I could feel the fatigue. Could feel the muscle aches. I was panicking. What if I was too sick to take care of my wife and new child? All I wanted was to be there for them.

I needed to use the restroom. I hobbled down the stairs. Tried to get the sickness out of me.

On my way back there was a little girl and her dad on the stairs. She was maybe a couple years old. She was in my way, but I didn't mind. She was super cute, and I was too tired to be annoyed.

She was repeating something, but I couldn't make out the words. 

"Keep on fighting", her father said. "I'm not sure why she keeps saying that."

”Keep on fighting,” the little girl said again. 

I smiled and scooted past her.

Keep on fighting. I needed to hear that. Maybe my wife needed to hear it. Maybe you do too. Maybe that's why it's stuck with me. Thank you little girl.

I was waiting for the right time to tell my wife about it. Keeping it in my back pocket for the perfect moment.

A couple days later my wife told me she was feeling off. I told her this story.

That was the day she went into labor.