73

We celebrated two birthdays over the weekend. 

                                            (The furry one, not the blond one.)

Also, this guy:

                                                   (The handsome one holding the football.)

Really, we all got together to celebrate Dave’s dad’s 73rd birthday.  At some point during the afternoon, someone asked how old Ozzie the pug was (he belongs to Uncle Mike and Nicole) and we found out he’s 10 1/2, which comes out to about 73 in dog years!   

Ozzie’s a nice dog and we love him.  But we love Dave’s dad even more.  I could blab on about what a great man he is, how thankful I am to him for raising his son to be an excellent husband and father, how smart, funny, kind, caring, earnest, trustworthy, deliberate, and steadfastly there for his family he is.  He says what he means, and he means what he says.  More than anything, you can count on him.  I love him like he was my own father, and I just count my blessings that when I married Dave I got to claim his dad and mom as (almost) my own as part of the deal. 

We had a great afternoon.  The autumn weather was perfect for some football and tree climbing and chatting in the backyard.





It was a good time to show off your muscles and look at old wedding photos!



And there were cupcakes galore!


Happy 73rd birthday to Al and Ozzie.

A man and a dog were never more loved by their family than they are.