I’m married to a big ol’ cowboy. When I was in labor with our child, the only time we were separated was when they took him to get into scrubs. He’s such a big farm boy that none of the scrubs fit him. He ended up wearing the largest painter suit they could find. When he walked in, I burst into laughter.

Me: “You look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters!”

Twenty-six years later, it’s my go-to memory in stressful situations.