Happy Birthday, Davis. I still remember clearly, the evening eighteen years ago, when the nurses took me into a little exam room (we had reserved the birthing suite, but didn't have time for the staff to set it up). They kept saying "Wait. Wait. Dr. Montgomery will be here is just a minute." They were shoving carts of instruments around the room and generally looking quite busy. You wouldn't wait. And so, there you were wrapped in a little blanket, staring up at me, just forty-five minutes after we pulled up to the ER. Your dad barely made it back in time from moving the car out of the ambulance lane to witness your arrival. We adored you at that moment and every moment since.