For you, Grandma . . .

Typically, during the workweek, my morning slumber is interrupted abruptly by the soothing sounds of MC Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock on my iPhone alarm clock. But at 6:15 on the morning of Tuesday May 29, 2012, when I was awoken by the ringtone assigned to my mother's phone number, I knew what the purpose of the call was before I had even opened my eyes.

Just a day earlier, on Memorial Day, I had decided to take advantage of the extra time off from work by enjoying a mid-morning workout at the gym. While there, I missed a phone call from my sister and, as I am not in the habit of receiving casual, "Just seeing how things are going," phone calls, I was quick to return it in the chance that there had been some sort of an emergency.

How I Met My Mother

For eight television seasons, Bob Saget has narrated the story of five friends in their late twenties and early thirties living in New York city. At the center of this story is a hopeless romantic bachelor in a search for "the one." As it is being told to his two children with the advantage of hindsight through a series of flashbacks, we know everything about the outcome of this fairy tale except for who their mother is.

While there are some similarities between myself and the Ted Mosby character, the one obvious difference is that I currently do not have children of my own to tell the story of how I met their mother. I can, however, tell the story of how I met MY mother.