On my first date with Mrs. kilted mason we went the water gardens in Fort Worth. As we walked and talked we decided to sit and people watch for a while. As we set there a bird bombed me on the shoulder and all the down the front of my shirt. I died a thousand deaths in the silence that followed as it was on the side she was setting on. Then out of nowhere a bird hit her square in the lap of her skirt. Now all these years latter it’s one of our favorite stories of how we new we were made for each other. I fact the youth group at church did reenactments of each staff members first date with their wife and mine was voted the favorite. It was a lot funnier watching it portrayed by the kids than having it happen. And all these years later I still have it, the church did a bluebonnet run a few weeks ago and at the first stop the only thing anybody could talk about was the big bombing pile on the very top my helmet. At least it didn’t hit my bike I had spent hours the day before cleaning and polishing.