I was my Mom's 3rd child.
It was a Sunday at the end of the month in November and Mom, Dad, and my sister who was just a little toddler were spending the evening at their good friend's house, Joe and Bertha. Even after I was born, a lot of my childhood was spent at their house.
Mom had a bet against Joe. $10 that her team would win.
It's a little vague as to which two teams were playing, Mom loved/loves football, so it could have been anyone.
End of 2nd quarter rolls around and she says she knew she was starting to have contractions.
End of 3rd quarter rolls around and she says she knows the contractions are close, but damn it, she needs to know who wins the game.
End of the game, Joe hands her $10 and she finally looks at my Dad and says "Call Mom to have her meet us at the hospital, it's time to go have the baby."
Mom says literally everyone is in panic mode except her. The hospital is near by, thankfully.
Granny meets them there. 1980, yo, so Dad is hanging out NOT in the hosptial room. Mom looks at Granny and says "Hey, maybe we should get the doctor, I think the baby is coming now." Granny looks under the blanket and runs out to get a nurse.
Nurse runs in, checks to find out I'm literally crowning at that moment. No time to get the doctor. I'm delivered by the nurse.
Why? Because Mom was too inthralled in football to get to the hospital in an appropriate amount of time.
EVERY single Saturday during college football season Mom calls me at the end of the game and we have one of two conversations.
Mom: How 'bout them dawgs?!? OR What the hell is happening with our dawgs!
I wouldn't change this part of our relationship for anything in the world.