I was born Sept. 1, and always presumed I was the result of a New Year’s Eve celebratory roll in the hay. Never asked my parents about it, and doubt I ever will.
They say Augusts delights may be Aprils fool. Apparently the summer of love hit Boulder, Colo too
The calculator worked well. I was born on July 1, 3 days earlier than expected, and my parents anniversary is Oct. 13, which was right at the end of the period (no pun intended) given by the conception calculator.
November twenty-something of 1979, my parents’ anniversary. They went on a camping vacation in central Florida, and I guess it got pretty cold that night. “We shared a sleeping bag to keep warm, and then here you are!” Ick. WHY do parents say these things? Do they WANT us to be screwed up?
Guh. Unfortunately. It was “on a beautiful October night” in 1980, in Miami.
My dad wrote a florid little passage about it, beginning with “IT WAS ON THIS SPOT…” underneath the waterbed mattress. That eventually became my bed and my friends and I found the writing once when we were moving it. Embarassing to say the least.
I figured out, while reading a similar thread a couple years back, that I was probably a Valentine’s Day baby. I’m quite certain my mother would be shocked if I asked about it as ladies don’t talk about such things.
GT
The year sex was invented, according to Philip Larkin.