I had plans.
I had plans to write this great father’s day post about my husband and his ability to be pretty kick ass.
But, after our little family of 5 spent a good 6 hours planting bushes in a new bed on the side of our house during the hottest part of a Georgia June day – it ain’t gonna happen.
We are all burnt. Nauseous. Fighting headaches. And pretty sure we’re all going to die of sun poisoning before daylight comes again.
We had plans for a wonderful steak dinner. Bone-in ribeye are waiting patiently to be smoked on the big green egg in honor of the day. That failed when the overwhelming effects of the sun kicked in.
We ordered pizza instead, ate off paper plates in the living room, and put the kids to bed around 7:30.
Damn you, sunshine!
Happy Father’s Day anyway. This may not be much of a tribute, but you should know, hubby, that you pretty much rock my fro all the time.