Today is my dad's birthday. I know because he kept reminding me of how old he is. Not as in, "Hey! I'm 62, can you believe it?!" More like, "This (insert whatever) is what happens when you get old!" Or, "You know, Ness, I'm getting old." Which really shocked me 'cause that doesn't happen to a-n-y-o-n-e.
The best part was when I teased him about how much he complains and he told me it's because he's Italian. Which of course I had to call bulls*it on, but truthfully, I was secretly amused.
After dinner my dad and I sketched out this painting thing I'm going to do but he's going to build for me. I'm kinda excited. Super cute. Well, if it turns out. And then he's building me a little desk and fixing a bunch of stuff. I kinda feel like it's MY birthday.
Okay so I ran again. I got owned on the last hill. I could have killed Young B, all sprinting and stuff. In fact, I still may.
I have yet to do something nice today. But I still have an hour left in the day. Shoot. Maybe I'll text my dad.