10th Round Of Chemo? Say It With Embarrassing Childhood Photos.

Dad, 

Today is your tenth round of chemo. (I'd say something pithy like "only two more rounds after this to go," but I won't. Because no one likes pithy crap like that.) 

I will say, however, that you continue to rock. And you continue to be strong and nonchalant and such a GUY about this whole thing. To which I can hear you say, "I've just gotta get it done. What choice do I have?" I can also hear you say, "I'm really gonna need you to stop blogging about me, Keel."

And while I can't do that- I really just can't- I can present pictures of us like this to the world:

This is the famed Edaville Railroad picture. And I was not having it, whatever "it" was supposed to be. And yet you never flung me onto a train track or handed me to a station attendant.

I appreciate that, Dad, I really do. That's just good parenting.

And I'm gonna go ahead and hazard this theory: if a guy can handle his pointy-hatted two year old having [what was apparently] the worst tantrum of the century in a public (and Festive, Dammit!) locale, then he can for sure handle another round of chemo.

Hang in there, Dave ["Keel," you continue to say].

You can do this.

And I can guarantee that this treatment won't be as noisy as I was.