How Fortuitous

Went to read to the young master a couple weeks before we left Indy for parts unknown (okay, for Pago Pago). I opened up Where the Sidewalk Ends to a random page, and this was what came up. I couldn’t help but think it fortuitous, with all the angst that went before with this move.

TreeHouse
Poem copyright © 1974 by Shel Siverstein
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