I was raised in a military family. My dad was a general, with two tours in Vietnam. His dad was also a general, cutting his teeth as one of the youngest battalion commanders of World War II, at the age of 26. I went to West Point. Joined the Infantry, trained as a Ranger, volunteered for the Airborne, jumped out of perfectly good airplanes for a living. All real man kind of stuff. I thought being a real man meant being tough. Being of few words. Doing dangerous things.

And then my wife got pregnant.