This would be a picture of a scruffy lumberjack bear of a man and a cone-headed chipmunk-cheeked gremlin of a baby. Otherwise known as me and my dad. I'm still wondering how my parents pulled off pretending to love me when I was an infant. It really must've been a hard task to accomplish. Good thing I grew out of the cone headed gremlin part. Still rocking the cheeks in all their glory though.
Anyway, if you've been around these parts for awhile you're probably already aware that I have one kick-ass dad for a father.
You'd know this because you would have read the post on the day he took over my blog slash decided to give me "beef" (his word not mine) about why the country I grew up in is way better than the city I live in now. To my dismay, he won quite a few of you over with his ramblings about how having a pond with a homemade water slide and zip line in your backyard is way better than having taxi cabs honking at all hours of the day and night. Or that being able to catch a baby deer in that same backyard is ten times more exciting than seeing a Broadway play ever could be.
Even though I'm quite partial to this city of mine I do have to give it to him; the man got 47 comments on his guest post - easily taking first place for my most commented on guest post of all time. He's pretty proud of that accomplishment seeing as he is one of the most competitive people I know. Get him in a game of beer pong and it's balls to the wall game on mode until the minute he the game's over...and he beats you. Watch out college kids, my parents know how to run a pong tourney just like the rest of you. I never said I was cool, but I did say my parentals are.
Another thing he's famous for on this blog of mine is his Butter Cat saga. Aka the texts I receive from him whenever he opens a brand new container of butter and tells me whatever the shape of the butter resembles. You know, like cloud watching...just with a condiment from your fridge instead.
The first one came in the form of that random ass text up there. But sure enough the butter (top right picture) looked like a damn cat. And then I got a picture of the next container a couple weeks later (bottom left) which resembled the Loch Ness monster. And then the third was apparently some sort of weird animal with its tongue sticking out. And once again he was right. I could see the butter shapes in every single one. And now you know where my weirdness comes from.
I'm telling you all of this because today marks the first day of the last year of his forties. One more year before he turns the big five oh
five oh somebody call the popo. Except for he still acts like a child who gets excited over Star Wars action figures. But that's even more reason to shower him with one big HAPPY BIRTHDAY in order to make sure he knows he's the best dad in all the land. Except for he probably already knows this sense, well, he is the best dad in all the land. Even Blogland. Sorry guys, it's true. Don't try to argue about it with me, you'll lose.
Sooo, Happy Birthday fajah! I love you to the moon and back and then back to the moon again because it's necessary to beat all the average folks with their sayings. I hope you have one hell of a birthday. Don't polish off too much rum in one night because you don't have me there to preach life advice to all night long.