My son-in-law was plowing through several pages of hospital paperwork last night. My daughter was about to give birth to their first child, five weeks prematurely, and he probably wasn’t excited about the distracting load of bureaucracy.
“You’d better be careful with that, Kyle,” I told him. “If the boy ever runs for president, you’ll be glad you filled out his birth certificate info correctly.”
Who knows where the electrons of this blog entry will be when my first grandchild goes for the presidency of the United States 40 or 50 years from now? But just in case this data is preserved, let my declaration today hereby serve as corroborating evidence that Jaxson Fusselman was born in Ogden, Utah, on Aug. 4, 2009, to Kyle and Ashly Fusselman, both themselves U.S. citizens, also born in this country.
I was right there. I saw Jaxson take his first few breaths. I watched as the nurse put the little warming cap on him and wrapped him in a blanket. I laughed with the rest of the family when someone said Jaxson looked like a burrito all wrapped up like that.
I’m very proud of my daughter and her husband and their little boy. Kyle, by the way, is going to be a great dad. He’s a hard worker and is applying to medical school. In fact, a few months ago he went on a humanitarian medical trip to Kenya. He spent a week in a rural village providing medical and dental care to Kenyans.
I think I’ll stop there. The birthers could be reading.