Hello you, Poppa-roo

For the past week my dad has been down in these parts to explore some business opportunities further. He of course managed to make some time for leisure.

It was comforting to know my pops still...

• plays two bars of the only song he knows every time he sees a piano;
• loves kids...even if they're afraid of him;
• has competition in him...although this trip, in all the games of Zarahemla he played, I don't think he won a single game. Oh wait, in his defence, he did beat an 8-year-old; an 8-year-old that was distracted by a movie playing in the adjacent room who was loaded full of post-tonsil-removal meds. Aw, Dadio. Teasing aside, this scene was a lovely reminder of my father's incredible patience. He would just sit and wait while his opponent watched for 5-10 minutes, then turned back to the board to say, "Is it my turn?" My dad would slowly reply, "Yeees." The same virtue was manifest when we stumbled upon a $3-bag sale at Sallies and he took to the buggy wheel to keep a just-immunised Esky amused.
  
• listens when I talk...and talk...and talk. This trip included some pro bono counselling for my CNP;
• claims all babies look the same. Yup, Esky's grandpa, that sure does look like your, "all-babies-are-the-same-face":
  

It was so nice to have you, Dad. You're a legend.