Dad, today is your 12th round o’ chemo. (Out of 12!)
And while you’ve been strong and stoic and awesome, I’ve been posting memories and pictures and videos that kiiinda make you wish you could cancel the internet.
So today, I will listen to you. (And it’s only taken a day shy of 33 years.)
Here, for your hooked-up-to-chemotherapy viewing pleasure, is a video that the girls and I recorded shortly before bedtime last night.
Please excuse the lack of studio quality.
And the fact that one of us is in jammies.
And another has been having a day.
And the third really needs to pee. (I’ll just let you try to Encyclopedia-Brown-out whom is whom.)
We love you, Pop/Dad. We all hope that this course of treatments knocked out the cancer from your awesome, dudely being. And that you feel better so, so soon.
Because if you don’t, I might be forced to tell people that you were in an 8th grade band called Destiny’s Children.
My hands are tied, here.
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