Happy Father's Day

Well, it wasn't exactly the first Father's Day I had imagined, but it was still wonderful because I had Elizabeth and Quin, and that's all that matters. You see, Elizabeth was sick, so sick she couldn't even talk. Quin on the other hand slept about 22 of the 24 hours in Father's Day. He had a fever of 102 and whenever he was awake he was mad as hell. We managed to get about five minutes of happiness out of him all day.

So what did I do on Father's Day? I did exactly what dads are supposed to do: I took care of my family. Any complaints from me? Nope.

Let's reflect shall we? Here's dad and his boy just a couple hours after dad became a dad. Quin was 7 pounds 11 ounces. Dad was 170 pounds. Dad was potty trained, Quin was not.


And here we are about ten months later. Quin weighs 21 pounds (triple his weight, woohoo!). Dad has put on weight and is back to 180 (I get to drink beer again, yippee!) Quin still isn't potty trained, and has peed on dad several times. He's pooped on dad a couple too, one just the other day. He's also highly trained to gouge out eyes at the first opportunity. Dogs, cats, dad, whatever. He's got a bright future in WWF wrestling.

So everyone was sick. Big deal. I still had a great Father's Day. Any day with my family is a great day. What more could I ask for?

Happy Father's Day to the other dads out there, including my own.