So my lovely & gracious wife and I pulled in to the driveway of our small yet tiny house Saturday night, after shopping for stuff with which to decorate the sanctuary for Resurrection Morning. Since we’d been out all day (driving almost to Detroit), we hadn’t gotten the mail yet, and so my wife went to check it. We’d pulled in to home to get my car, so that after decorating, she could just go home and sleep, knowing I would stay until about 2 a.m. as normal preparing for Sunday morning, and as we’d gotten out of her car, I’d joked, “Gosh, wouldn’t it be just swell if the adoption finalizaiton papers came in the mail today and we didn’t wind up having to appear before a Wayne County judge and all that…?”

When my wife opened the mailbox, there was a manila envelope there, right on the top of the pile. She hesitated getting the envelope out, but finally did so, and opened it, peeked in – and screamed. She ran to me, and jumped on me. All the while, I’m freaking out myself, wondering what it was. All she could do was hand me the envelope, and I looked in…

Let it be knonw, that having found…blah, blah, blah…that from this date and henceforth, the parents of the adoptee are: {myself and my wife}, and the name of the adoptee is Masen Elijah Macon

It’s over, he’s ours, and I still haven’t peeled either myself or my wife off the ceiling yet.

To top it all off, the date of the order was March 17th – St. Patty’s Day, which is a very significant day for my wife’s family (being Irish and all).