Father's Day
It's cliche, but every day should be like Father's Day.
Giggles woke me this morning as Christy, Hannah, and Sydney served me breakfast in bed: fresh pineapple, coffee, and cinnamon rolls (of course). Before they snuck in, I had been dozing and wondering what smelled so delicious.
By 9:30 a.m. the sky was starting to clear. It was a wee bit cold when we arrived at T-Street an hour later, but by noon you couldn't ask for a better day -- even the surf was pretty fun.
At around 2:30 we drove up to Grandpa JP's for an evening barbecue.
Man, I'm fried, sore, and pooped out, so this post will be short and uninspired.
But what a great day.
Breakfast in Bed.
Daddy Dogpile.
Hannah gets her sunscreen on (and then some).
Bubble and the Bean
T-street (with a my two favorite flags flying)
Looking north toward the pier from the T-street overpass.
Da Gurlz.
I've burned my nose.
0 comments:
Post a Comment