Father Pop the Priest

Clay's dad came for a visit this week. I was hoping to get a few good pictures of him with the kids. Yeah, the kids, they are not making that easy.

He's a priest. Could someone tell my oldest son to stop hamming around? Geesh!

He almost never takes his collar off. He wore it with bluejeans and sandals to the bowling alley and then to Steak N Shake with all four of his grand kids. Ike? Uh, how about combing your hair and waking up a bit? And Ellen? Are those your pajama pants? Crimenetly, who is the mother of these kids? Uh.....oh, never mind.

My kids call him Pop. He's Father Pop. Seth and Ellen! Quit! I'm trying to take a good picture! Ike, Levi! Look at the garsh darn camera!

I'm constantly forgetting he's a priest and never notice the collar until he takes it off or leaves it at my house and when I find it I don't know what in tarnation the weird white plastic thing on the bookshelf is so I throw it in the trash. Then he calls me wondering where he left his collars and I find myself blurting out, "Oh my gosh! That's what those things were! Aren't they disposable?" Uh, no they aren't. Ooops.
Here's the Priest and the Preacher. Why does Preacher look so miserable? Poor guy I think he's afraid he might get converted.

FYI, I thought you all should know I have the word WORM written on my hand in ink so I won't forget to deworm my cats tomorrow. Classy, I know.

Also, for those of you who were curious about the Christmas letter, you can read it here. Merry Christmas, a little late or early.