Hey, Dad.

Pops, as you steamroll through your second day of your second session of chemo, I'd like to invite you to reflect upon the good times.

Like that time you found a yellow dinosaur. 

I mean, clearly you were between gigs for the evening- that is what was happening here, right? (Ziggy Stardust onstage= terrific. Rhinestone cowboy just a'cause in someone's living room= ...well, this is a positive reflection. But so was that shirt! Badabing!)

So there you were, being adorbs with this dinosaur (goose?) and, well, I don't know the rest of the story. Because I was minus ten years old. But I would love to, and that's my point. 

Never let it be said that Dave Flynn had a misspent youth. This is a man who, quite obviously, was youthfully spendy. I think we can all look at this picture and know that a) something awesome was about to happen, b) something awesome DID just happen, or c) Dave Flynn is the best Still Life photobomber ever to run through a living room. (No, seriously Dad, please tell me what was happening here? Was this your dinosaur/goose? Was it Mom's? Was it for Mom? Were you between ladies and this dinosaur/goose comforted you in a way that no polyester-clad woman could? Is this dinosaur/goose actually my mother?) 

Like I said, reflect upon the good times.  

Because chemo's kind of a jerk. 

So let's all hug the dinosaur/goose. But not you, Dad.

You've had enough.