This morning, Dad arrived with the swing set that he built for Connor. We expected a little A-frame with a swing attached, but Dad doesn't do anything half-assed, as the picture below shows. Connor loved swinging, crying when we tried to take him out and almost falling asleep once the rocking slowed to a gentle rhythm.
I'm almost glad that Connor won't remember receiving it. I think that unless PawPaw bought him a pony he'd never be able to top it... and ponies don't litter train very well, so we're vetoing that. When you have a GrandDad that makes such great toys, who needs Santa?
Merry Christmas everyone.
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