|My dad, Grandpa Clyde, with his buddy|
There was a great picnic in my parents' back yard with good weather and good food (provided by me, so "good," if I say so myself...), good conversation and, oh, yeah, my dad's socks fit perfectly.
He put them on. Outside. At the dinner table on a 75 degree day. And all was right with the world.
Happy Father's Day to my wonderful husband, my own dad (the original Clyde the Glide--we called him that before ol' Clyde Drexler even came along) and to all the important men out there who shaped the lives of others. You are appreciated.