White Dog was getting a tummy rub from Steve. The only thing left of the key lime pie was whipped cream mustaches on Nilla and Pearl. Benson's hot breath on my face smelled like garlic and chicken shwarma.
Steve's birthday was a masterful success, according to the celebrant. He loved the theme, "Dad, You Are A Rock Star!" accompanied by a soundtrack Opal, Sachi, and Stormer had culled from the record collection. And YoYoMa brought down the house with his leather jacketed impersonation of Joey Ramone singing "Hey Ho, Let's Go!"
Zsofia, Bella and Pearl helped everyone prepare for the dinner feast with their vigorous back yard playtime demands. And CA Stormer led the conga line from the yard back into the house...and tried to settle down for a nap. As the line sank to their bellies around Steve stretching out on the couch, White Dog hopped on his chest. "It is your birthday, no time to rest. Let's Dance!"
Winded and laughing, everyone collapsed into cuddle time. And just enjoying being together.
It looks as though meteor shower watching tonight will be replaced by rain showers but we are content to sit and watch the clouds build. I am confident that Steve knows he is loved VERY much and is beyond special in our hearts.
We celebrate him and all of the bazillions of things he does...for us...and to make the world a better place. We are proud to be part of your pack, Dad.
Now let's go watch Rock and Roll High School! Gabba Gabba Hey...