Happy Birthday, Daddy!

It's a week of special events here in the Foreman household.  Monday brought us Adler's 6 month "birthday" and his first experience with food, today is Joel's 32nd birthday, Thursday is Thanksgiving, and Friday we wallow around in pajamas because our pants no longer fit.

But for today, we celebrate Daddy.

While eating breakfast this morning, I asked the boys to describe their Dad and I kept track of their observations.  In a related note, my children should never be eyewitnesses to any crime, ever.  Not for the sake of their innocence, but because they would like identify a squirrel as the perpetrator.  Maybe a mailbox.  Bottom line, they're full of it.

-  Daddy likes baseball and root beer.

-  He works in a box. 

-  He wears a big beard.  (November is almost over!)

-  He thinks the Cubs smell like poop.

-  He always finishes dinner first.

-  He is a popsicle.  (Who knows?)

-  He speaks French.  (No he doesn't.)

-  He spills ice cream.

-  He has, like, 5,000 red shirts.  (Does anyone?)

-  He likes music and music sounds.  (Really, both?)

-  He drives a white truck.

-  He only eats cookies from HyVee.

-  He is 32.  Or 33.  Is it 33?  Or Graham- what if Daddy was like 200 years old and Mommy was only 31 and he was so old he couldn't walk and she had to pull him around in a sled?  That would be fun.  I'd get on his sled too.  But not during the summer because sleds don't work on the grass.

-  He wrestles us and reads to us.

-  He loves Mommy, and he loves us too.

I thought I might have better luck with a video, but their "boyness" won out in the end, as it always does.



So Happy Birthday, Daddy!  We love you and wish you much better than buttcracks.  When you're done in your box, there will be cake waiting.

Try not to spill the ice cream.