You guys.
It...happened.
Tyson GRADUATED!!! Woo-hoo!!!
(Brooklyn: what the frick are you wearing, dad?)
Some of Tyson's cheering section.
Tyson is down there somewhere. Wearing a black motorboard and black gown. What do you mean you can't pick him out?
Brooklyn is either A) bored with the graduation proceedings, B) exhausted from a long day of graduation proceedings, or C) both A and B.
(Answer: C. It's always C.)
Graduation meant having family in town so everybody could celebrate the miracle wonder many accomplishments of Tyson as he earned his PhD.
This meant plenty of playtime for these two.
Riding toys. Not made in Uncle Tyler's size.
It also meant feasts of delicious food.
Caden partied a little too hard, resulting in the Great Head Bump of 2015.
Followed the next day by the Great Absolute Wicked Downpour of 2015. While we were outside at the park.
But one of the best sights of the weekend?
Tyson attempting to explain his research (on the computational complexity of counting problems in the Holant framework) to one of his grandmas and my own grandma.
His grammie took all of his papers and his thesis (which he had brought along to display) home for a little bit of light reading (*sarcasm alert!*).
And now you can call him "Doctor".