Father's Day was a relaxing day for us. We did very little productive - which was exactly the sort of day Alejandro wanted.
The dog that ate treats.
The sky that shone bright above.
The plane that flew over. The cotton wood that snowed down.
The deck that was fixed the weekend before.
(As in we tore out every single one of the balusters and moved them so they are the proper width and little heads/bodies can't fit through them, then drilled them back in. In one evening.)
The son of the father that was celebrated.
The shoes...
...that were hardly worn.
The chocolate shakes that were drunk.
The clouds that passed by.
The water that was poured. And poured. And poured again.
The mo-hawk that was styled.
The hot-wheel that was purchased
for the son of the father
that was celebrated.
