Tag Archives: Woodstock


Mommy went to get a massage this holiday morning, while Daddy had breakfast with you.

You had mango, blueberries, banana, cheese, milk, water, and apple and butternut squash in a bag.

And we listened to this:

And then this version of the song,

And we finally settled on this concert.

Guinevere had golden hair
Like yours, mi’lady like yours

Victoria has golden hair.

This verse makes me think of Mommy and Daddy and you.

They are one person
They are two alone
They are three together
They are for each other

When you’re wondering how you grew up to be who you are, there’s a pretty good chance it was a result of mornings like this — when you were Daddy’s hippie baby.


And then you climbed into Daddy’s lap, to help type

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