Today is NFL Sunday. I was enjoying the game, but was very tired from the full weekend. My four hour nap on Saturday does not count - one hour per child born is certainly excusable on rare occasions. As I lay down on the couch to participate in the game this afternoon, I closed my eyes for just a moment. I almost let the cheers and whistles lull me to sleep and then I began daydreaming. I was remembering a day I played quarterback. Since I had kinda been the boy of the family, my dad taught me to throw a football, among many other things usually reserved for boys. You see, I had been named John in the womb. My heartbeat, the doctor said, had to be male. Surprise! I was a girl...later a ballerina, in fact. But I loved the moments with my dad. He taught me to corral cows, maneuver a truck, drive a golf ball, and throw a football... all before I was ten. I still prefer to work outdoors over housework an...