Local legend has it that dinner and an IPA at Davidson’s will send a woman into labor. So, after two days of walking two and from work, repeated trips to the park, foolhardy leaps from swing sets, the odd skipping jaunt down the street, we hied ourselves to the proverbial fountain of labor. Neither a fan of beer nor a person truly comfortable with drinking while pregnant, I scanned the menu and tried the next best thing – Spiciness. Buffalo Chicken in a Jalapeno Cheddar Wrap. My meal was complemented by the kind of laughter that only comes along once in a great while. I had commented on the bold shade of red that a guy in the restaurant was wearing, Sean quickly pointed…