Thanks, Dad

for instilling in me a love for the outdoors.
for explaining to me at an early age that "if you can't use your left hand, you're only half a ball player."
for discerning when I didn't need punishment additional to my own feelings of remorse.
for setting an example of looking out for neighbors.
for always interrupting Saturday cartoons to make me work.
for showing me that we can bounce back from our mistakes.
for driving your truck and trailer to Albuquerque and back to bail me out of a bad situation.
for criticizing my grammar when it weren't good.
for being my friend.
for expecting me to abandon stupidity (and kicking me in the butt when I didn't).
for waking up early every morning to take me to basketball practices so I could do something I loved.
for convincing me the driveway should be shoveled now, not later.
for demonstrating that man is bigger than his struggles.
for letting me have a b.b. gun.
for noticing my accomplishments, big or small.
for not buying me a Nintendo.
for expressing it when you're proud of me.
for assuring I could do man things like change my oil and drink Pepsi.
for finding opportunities for the family to spend time together.
for helping me realize that wealth is in experiences, character, and relationships, not possessions.
for your part in giving me two brothers and three sisters who I wouldn't trade for anything.
for being sure that I spent enough time at the farm to appreciate my incredible grandparents.
for making me proud to be an Olson.