Not long ago, I was on a plane that hit a pocket of turbulent air as we approached our landing. Instinctively, as the plane fluttered up and down, and my stomach began to flutter uncomfortably in the same way, I started doing the breathing exercises I had learned while taking Lamaze classes. When we finally set down safely, I thanked the "big guy" for watching over me and then I thought about the last time Lamaze training had served me well --- June 5, 1981.

Pat was pregnant with our third child and, with two boys already onboard, she was hoping mightily for a girl. We even had the name Katherine picked out. But you know what they say, "Man plans and God laughs." Even though I told her a girl would be just fine with me, my instincts told me that Josh was on his way.

Actually, my instincts were in overdrive that whole week. Monday morning, I was talking on the phone with one of my vendors and without really thinking about it, I told him to call me Friday and I would let him know if the baby was a boy or girl. Pat wasn't due until the following week, but something was telling me to be prepared on Friday.

On Tuesday, I asked my assistant manager to open the store Friday morning-something I always did. Thursday afternoon, I took the payroll book home so I could sign all the checks --- something I always did on Friday mornings. Thursday night, Pat and I went out to dinner with my parents and I told my father that the baby was going to arrive the next day. He laughed good-naturedly, humoring me about my prediction. Even Pat didn't believe me when I told her to make sure her bags were packed and ready for the hospital.

But when you're right, you're right --- no matter how many people may scoff. At 5 a.m. Friday morning, Pat's water broke. I called my parents at 5:30 to tell them we were on our way to the hospital. "How did you know?" my father asked me over the phone. I didn't have time to explain.

By 6 we were at North Shore Hospital, by 10 Josh was cradled in his mother's arms, and by 11 I was at my office passing out chocolate cigars. Everyone who had heard my predictions earlier in the week was dumbfounded.

What I had neglected to tell them was that June 5th was my father's birthday. I thought a grandson would be a far more memorable present than a tie.

He thought so, too.