May 5, 2016

Cinco de Daddio

Not a proper translation

I woke up early - though obviously not as early as you - to get what I found later to be your second hand crafted Macchiato of the day. It's the best that I can go into the Java Jar and say "I need my Dad's drink," and they know exactly what that means. 

When I found you at the Sale Barn talking business - per usual. But you still took a moment to throw away your "cowboy coffee" and thank me for the thought. You took a moment out of what is always a busy day to talk to me about life, business, and rounding up Grandma Glenna for your birthday dinner later tonight (which we both know can be quite the feat).

And when I asked about the possibility of a photo with a sombrero, you laughed. "Well, what's the good of having a birthday on Cinco de Mayo if we don't?" 

When you should be celebrate every day, I'm glad we get to do it at least once or twice a year. Thank you for your constant wisdom, counsel, care and clever jokes. And for making light of what I assume to be the end of the world by asking, "Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?" And other crazy tactics you've all but copyrighted over the years. Thanks for being a constant rock and answering the phone at the end of every day, even if it's just to check in. 

And thank you, Dad, for being the best sport in the world and wearing a sombrero and drinking a second birthday coffee with me. Here's to the best Dad and a day all your own: all your closest taco-eating-margarita-drinking friends around the world celebrating the day that brought you to us. 

I love you so much, Dad. We're all thankful for you every single day! 

 

Cheers to another year of being too cool for your own good,