It’s not exactly Grammy-worthy, little one (I don’t think a song about French toast would ever win an award), but the fact that you are making up songs is thrilling to me.
I’m not looking for you to become a singer/songwriter (not exactly profitable), but as an author, I love your creativity.
You love dinosaurs and love music, little one so a combination of the two was inevitable. And cute.
It’s not easy to record a video that makes Mommy sad but also makes her want to watch it again and again, little one.
These two videos accomplish this goal.
This was going to be cute, little one, but you told me to put the phone away so I was available to clap.
Kind of annoying.
This is my favorite breakfast of all time, little one.
I love the music that you are making, little one, but I think I love the hat the best.
While your interest in the musical instruments leads me to think that music will be a part of your life for a long time, the hat leads me to believe you might actually have a career in music someday.
Musicians always have a signature style. Perhaps yours will be the bunny hat.
You’re specific, demanding and unwavering, little one.
You and Mommy can be quite distracting when I am trying to write, little one.
When I was in high school, little one, I played in the drum corps and was proud to do so. We were a part of a competitive marching band that won two six straight Massachusetts titles and two New England titles.
I marched in the Macy’s Day parade, the Rose Bowl parade and inside Disney World.
Some of my best memories come from my marching band days.
It would appear that you might follow in Daddy’s footsteps, one day.
I mean, it almost looks as though you know what you’re doing, little one.
