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So picture this: we’re at a party in Cross, minding our own business, and somehow we keep locking eyes like two people trying to flirt but also trying not to be awkward in the process. Eventually we started talking, and the conversation immediately jumped to birthdays for some reason—like we were filling out a questionnaire instead of flirting. We both said, “Yeah, we just had ours,” which was already weird. So then came the big question: “Okay, so when’s your birthday?” “November 25th.” “No way—mine too.” One of us absolutely did not believe the other and demanded to see a driver’s license on the spot (we’ll let you guess who the detective was). Not “hi,” not “nice to meet you,” not “what’s your name?” Nope. Straight to: PROVE IT. Actually pulling out a license like we were checking into TSA, and boom—same birthday. Same day. Same energy. Same chaos. At that point the universe basically slapped us in the face with a sign that said, “Alright you two, connect the dots…” And now here we are… still sharing a birthday, still sharing life, now sharing parenthood, and still laughing about the fact that our love story started with an ID check.