6.15.2014

D Day




These guys (the big ones) are quite the men.  I don't know why I have this old photo of my dad, but I couldn't resist utilizing it.  Studly huh?  I try to tell my hubs of his greatness daily but I'm afraid I fail (miserably).  So today, we tried to make the day all about him.  I woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn to make a sausage filled egg extravaganza and of course the children sensed that I was upright, so they woke up too.  We spoiled Dad with a Superman grilling apron (you're welcome Tim), a ninja fighting man bottle opener (again, you're welcome Tim) and tons of home made cards and notes from the darling little hands that rely so heavily on their Dadio.  Church was next, followed by a lovelier than lovely picnic and stroll through Denver Botanic Gardens with the Glassmans.  There's an exhibit there called Chihuly, which is an assortment of mind boggling glass art displayed around the gardens.  It was amazing and combined with the beauty of that venue, top notch weather, and the company of kick ass friends, it made for a fabulous outing.  Photos to come soon.

We came home and chilled for a bit and headed to our pool for the night.  Man do we love that place.  Dude swam his brains out for 2 hours with all his little girlfriends, Squirt played with all her new little boyfriends, I chatted with Mamas and Tim played beach volleyball.  Oh, and we had root beer floats.  That was awesome and we had to ask ourselves why we don't have them more often.    

On Friday morning I forced my children to do a couple mini photo shoots for me so we could give Daddy some visual keepsakes this year.  Here's a sampling of what they gave offered me.  Very them.  
     























We do love you Tim.  A lot.  There's no one else I'd rather walk through fire or bask in the sunshine with than you babers.  You're my first and greatest gift.  And to my Dadio, who is currently frolicking in Prague with my Mother dear and another couple, I sure do love you too you great ape.  Happy Father's Day.    




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