Screw the French; yesterday was my Dad's birthday.

What do you get for a guy who has played golf with Bob Hope, has recieved death threats from PETA and gone to the World Series with Rita Hayworth?

Simple!

A giant chocolate cherry cake.

ViAnne brought three pans of lasagne and a huge vat of sauce.  Everyone else brought the fixin's and all the grandkids and we had a loud, rowdy delicious dinner.  A half dozen of the grandkids ran off to the woods after dinner and almost missed out on the cake. 

In addition to dinner, cake and cards, Dad got a report from his doctor that proves that eighty is the new fifty.

Happy Birthday, Dad!  Enjoy middle age!

 

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