Dad's Birthday

We celebrated Dad's sixth birthday today. Dad got a new ball, a big, green one. He played lovingly with the ball for a long time. I wanted to borrow the ball, if only for a little while, but Dad would not let me until late in the evening. When I did get hold of the ball, it did not take long for it to be punctured. Everybody blamed me, but why was I to blame? Sure, I had the ball in the second it was punctured, but Dad had played with it for a long time and must have worn it out. Maybe Dad let me have the ball, because he knew it was soon to be broken? I do not want to think Dad would be that bad to me, he usually is not. Still, I cannot shake the conviction that I am not solely to blame for puncturing the ball.

Nevertheless, Dad had a great birthday with good food and his loving family. Congratulations to him!