Allow me to raise my stein and pledge a toast to all you SOB's out there who sacrifice valuable game time to spend it with your kids, or better yet, force your kids to play video games with you. My brother once told me when we were comparing who's was bigger that until I'm a dad, I just wont get it. And he was right. I've spent eight years with my tiny demon spawn who have showered me with goos, gaa's, piss, poop, crying, not listening, disappointing me at every turn because I know how to do it better, then surprising the crap out of me when it turns out I was dead wrong because their way worked. And I wouldn't trade the little blighters for a Carrack (maybe an Idris or an Orion). To the long nights of sniffles and fevers, to the drink inducing frustration of having to school them at home these last couple of months. Congrats to all my TESTie Daddies with your big swinging pair of Auroras, here's to you and the successful generation were raising that will pick our nursing home, may we all get served beer in Hell or die from a heart attack when they send us their therapists bill.