Today my oldest turns six. She was 8 pounds, 10 ounces and 21.5 inches long. When she came into this world, my first thought was, "Oh man, she has a cone head. Will it always be like that?"

Then I quickly got over my immaturity and cried just like I was watching the last scene of Field of Dreams, "Dad, you wanna have a catch?"

However, while Kayla was balling because she was ripped from a comfortable, warm and secure place, I was balling because I just became a dad. There's no feeling in this world -- natural or unnatural -- that can replicate it. Ever.