It's my dad's birthday today. He's 46. I don't think he'd mind me saying that; it's Mom who's touchy about her age. So, all I'll ever say on that topic is that she's younger than Dad (younger by years, not just months like with me and Scott) but old enough to have a 21-year-old daughter.
Back when I was little I thought Dad knew everything. Eventually I figured out that he didn't, and some of it I helped him learn, especially back when I was his RCIA sponsor--yeah, I'm my dad's godmother. Does that make me my own godgrandmother? (Well, technically he was baptized validly as a baby but those godparents aren't around so I consider myself his godmother.)
Anyway. Here's to 46 years of my dad's existence, which was a necessary prerequisite to my own existence. I love you, Daddy.