Dad Turns 59

We celebrated Dad’s 59^th birthday this weekend. Earlier in the week my little heart broke about the aging fella because he got excited about a commercial showcasing a special deal going on at Outback Steakhouse. He insisted he get to go for a meal. I told him that interest in restaurant deals via television was Stage 3 and he didn’t understand why. Not understanding why is Stage 4. I had a moment where I stared at him and realized that one day he just won’t be the same.

But this story has a happy ending because we threw Dad a birthday party and he proved to be just as childish as ever. Don’t know what I was so worried about.

Ellen and I schemed a “ Little Boy’s Dream” birthday for Dad which included an assortment of games and activities and a surprise water balloon fight. We hung paper decorations, cooked a homemade meal, played shanghai and Pig, and gave him a few presents. One very special present was a brand new wig for our collection. Dad nearly lit his wig on fire blowing out his birthday candles.

Carolyn and Dave came to celebrate as well as Brett, Erik, Hayden, and Drew and the six men moved from game to game like small children at Summer camp. They ran and jumped and laughed and skipped and ran and jumped some more.

“Ok, now were going to play Spikeball!” and they’d move in a group across the yard to the next activity. 

“Let's go play Ladderball!”

“Yeah! Alright! Lets’ go!” and they’d scamper off to gather all of the parts and pieces and balls. 

Us gal’s sat and watched simplicity in motion.

The highlight of the day was Dad's new wig. We were forced to introduce The Passing of the Afro Ritual to the guys who were equal parts intrigued and put-off.

"So this is a normal thing?", Hayden asked sincerely. They caught on pretty quickly and cackled with delight. The best part was Hayden's wig. We decided we all know a woman who looks just like him. How had we never noticed his remarkable bone structure? You may note it here, in my favorite photo of my fellas.

At the end of the day, the guys and dogs were tuckered out. They sat on the patio with drinks and cigars and talked “Man things” in a low hum between bouts of ruminative silence. It seemed they didn’t want it to be over or maybe they didn’t want to be the first to admit to being tired. 

I’m certain every one of them is sore today.