Happy Hoppa's Day!

Tommy insists on calling Dad Hoppa for Grandpa. He's been officially renamed as all of us has picked it up and now Dad is stuck with it. I joke that we are now going to call Mom Hamma, but Tommy says her "Grandma" moniker pretty well. 

For Father's Day we met for dinner, and he received some gifts that night, but Hoppa was not without his surprises too. He'd gotten a gift that day from Mom that will serve the grandkids well over the years. Here is Hoppa with Cheesy P.

The gift of all gifts: A Little Red Wagon! Tommy wanted a ride right away and Dad walked him from the restaurant all the way home. The paparazzi followed too, of course (to work off dinner. Wowee I ate a ton, but I working out a ton, too-- no judgment).

The stalkerazzi showed up ( you can see Mal's cali shades from 100 feet away)...

It was bright so Hoppa lent his hat. Tommy adapted quite well. I want to kiss those cheeks.

Everytime I took a photo from behind I'd run up and tickle him. He got the hint after one time and started pining his elbows to his sides.

From Cheesy P. to D.J. Cheezy to the Peezy.

I love this shot. He was about this serene the entire time and Dad loved every step he took. I could practically feel his heart overflowing. Happy Hoppa's Day, Dad.

....and I guess I should credit Micky too. He is after all, the King of the Goofballs. I love you, Brother.

**Editor's note: I realize that I haven't been blogging a lot lately. I'm in a funny phase where not only do I not feel like I have many stories to tell, but I am learning things about myself that I never fully realized before (one thing is that I hate wearer matching clothes when I am home alone Why is that?). I've begun quite an intense Bible Study this summer and will blog when I can, but my biggest prayer is that I will have an amazing story to tell when this is all over. Here's to the journey...**