"I don’t know," I say. “When would YOU like to get married?” We are already living together. My children adore their “Daddy Scott”. He’s also survived the obligatory warning from my mother about how I’ll ruin his life—and still, he isn’t scared.
“Well,” he ponders aloud, “this is leap year, and February 29th is just around the corner. Why don’t we get married then?”
“Leap Day? That’s the day nobody wants to be born because they’ll only get a REAL birthday every four years. It’s a day only CRAZY people would choose.”
“I know!” he exclaims. “Isn’t it PERFECT?”