Saturday morning came early, as I gently climbed out of bed, knowing Mary would awaken but not stir enough to let me know she was. I didn’t require nearly as much sleep after the Nam as I had in my younger years and also had some form of sleep apnea my wife took full advantage of. She’d wake me at night to let me know Michael was crying. I’d immediately get up and go take care of whatever the problem was whether that was changing a diaper or simply picking him up and cuddling with a pre-filled bottle of Enfamil until he quieted. It was usually at that point that I came to full consciousness and figured out where I was. I never remembered being awakened or sent out on my mission. My wife would fall back asleep, knowing I was on the job. Once I was fully awake and aware I could carry Michael from his upstairs bedroom down to ours. The CIA crib had come in very handy, as it sat upstairs while our model was down near the foot of our bed.

I dressed in a pair of OP shorts and one of my fake Polo shirts. The shirts cost less than one-third of what they would have at a ‘real’ store, but Coronets was anything but a real store. It sold cheaply whatever it could get its hands on, which all of us who didn’t have a lot of money appreciated. The horse didn’t look quite right on the front and the things wore out and faded very quickly but when new they looked like the real thing.

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