Dad's Back.

Oh holiday weekends. When 3-day weekends approach and everyone is preparing for their 3 consecutive days off, I'm usually preparing for the impending disaster. I do not get 3-day weekends. At least not under normal circumstances. If we're required (like we were this week) to take a Monday or a Friday off, you can bet your bungalow that I'll be coming in over the weekend to make up for the lost time.

I could always not come in and take my vacation like everyone else. I could push all my worries to the side and not think at all about the disaster awaiting me when I return. But then that day will come when I'll have to go back to work and all hell will break loose. I will have four times as much work to do, everyone will be angry, and impatient, and paging me on the over head to remind me of it. I'll end up working my butt off while getting yelled at for things beyond my control and then I'll go home and cry myself to sleep. No thank you. So instead I come in. I work my butt off, and pray that everything will be okay after the holiday.

So Sunday I worked, and worked, and worked some more. Then I went to my Dad's for family fun time.

Dad and TOC spent the past couple of weeks motoring around Italy. They're home now, safe and sound so Sunday (after a long day of work) we all went over to their place for dinner, birthday cake, and TONS of pictures.

It was super cute, and Dad was happy and excited.

He was less excited about my trip, mostly because he's convinced I'm driving out into the wilderness, you know, where there are no trails or roads or maps and it's hotter than the surface of the sun and everything can kill you. No matter how many times I tried to explain that I was NOT going off-road or into anything that could be misconstrued as wilderness, alone or otherwise, he didn't seem to get it. He did feel a little better after I promised to take (and use) his GPS thingy, but the down side of that compromise is that I have to meet him on my lunch break Thursday so we can drive around and Dad can be sure I know how to use it.

I also got the 'bring water' speech several dozen times. "Like, gallons. Not bottles." also popped up a surprising number of times, along with "you don't realize how much water you need to drink just to stay alive..." You know, like I haven't been living in the desert my whole life. And like I'm not regularly out hiking in the summer sun.

Besides, you and I both know, one small water bottle is totally enough for 9 days in the desert, right? ;)

I love my Dad, he's my favorite, and I really do appreciate all the annoying little reminders he's constantly giving me. I love that he cares, and I love that he worries. I really do. I just love it a little less when it's happening.

Song of the day for Sunday is Cherry Coloured Funk.