My wife Maureen was babysitting Jimbo the fateful night the red Mustang played bumper cars on the Post Road in Mamaroneck after Jimbo headed to Sherwood's for a night cap when his bar-tending shift ended at AYC. The rest of the family was in Boston painting Tom & Brita's place. Marc and I decided to drive home and surprise our spouses late Saturday night. I crept into bed with Maureen before the phone call came from the Hospital announcing Jimbo's arrival. We went over and Jimbo was out with a huge bump on his forehead and monitoring machines connected all over his body, taking his vitals. We were pretty worried for him, but when the morning came, he was the same old playful Jimbo. With that devilish look in his eye he said: "Watch this". He started to tap the sensor on his chest, setting off alarms on his monitoring equipment. The Nurse rushes in and Jimbo just laughed, saying "False alarm, gotcha". The Nurse wasn't nearly as amused as Jimbo was.