When I first met my husband, his youngest son, Michael, was eight years old. We went on a family date to the to watch the play basketball. We had terrible seats. We sat in the nose bleed section of the huge stadium. The game was over, we left our section and began climbing down four full flights of stairs. We circled around to find the exit nearest to where we parked. Just as we were about to leave the building Michael said he forgot his baseball cap. David told him, “Go get it, we’ll wait for you here.” That’s when I first realized, I met my match. Read next feature >