I’m from the white house with blue shutters

All that’s missing was the white picket fence

I’m from the cherry blossoms

And swimming in the river

I’m from the baseball park next door

From a two-story tree house

And the sound of cars being made

I’m from “these are the days convertibles were made for”

And remembering not to run

I’m from a lawyer, a policeman, a brother, and a sister

I’m from a family forest, not tree

I’m from Sunday dinners

From cookie cake and chicken cutlets with honey

I’m from bike rides with my best friend

And from the Valentine’s bug

I’m from the smell of a pillow

And a horrible rendition of Happy Birthday to you

I’m from the song that never ends

Yes it goes on and on my friend

I’m from a pretend store in the office

And years long games of spy

I’m from tent sleepovers in the living room

So the monsters couldn’t get us outside

I’m from Christmas Eve parties

And the kid’s table

I’m from hotbox at Grandma’s

And from exploring the woods

I’m from Mercer Mayer

And from scaffoldings by the pool

I’m from strawberry picking

And from The Night Before Christmas