Greg helped Abby purchase tickets to an earthy, crunchy all day music festival as a Mother's Day gift for me. And. . .one of the tickets. . .was in GREG'S name.
My husband can't stand music festivals. He doesn't like concerts. He hates anything that involves music as primary entertainment. And he especially loathes my folky/singer-songwriter favorites.
So, knowing he was in for eight hours of utter hell, Greg sacrificed the day so I could have my first family music festival. It was wondrous.
Abby had a grand time. She played with her toys,
inspected Daddy's hands,
sat with Mommy and listened to the great music,
watched us eat our packed lunch (OK, I just wanted to photograph the food. After Abby, food is my life. Er, I mean, after Abby and my wonderful husband. . .),
people-watched,
and took a few snoozes.
I suspect her favorite part was being worn by Daddy. Look! With the sling and the sandals, Greg passes for a festival-going hippie dad! He could almost be mistaken for a liberal. Almost.
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