Helen trudged into the kitchen, head whirling with angry and miserable thoughts. The only thing she wanted to do was pour out all of her troubles to her husband. He wasn't exactly likely to be helpful, but she could always count on him for sympathy.

The moment she saw Jake, though, every memory of her own lousy day vanished. He was slumped in a chair at the kitchen table, sagging down like his strings had been cut. "What's wrong?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

Jake slowly turned his head to look at his wife with wide, distraught eyes. "Buxton Ridge," was all he could get out.

Helen put an arm around him. "Jake, we've been over this. You aren't a teenager anymore, and you don't go to military school. You're a grown man with a job and-"

Still unable to speak a single word, Jake thrust a piece of paper in front of his wife. She took it and read it quietly to herself. "Dear Former Cadet: Your graduating class from Buxton Ridge Military Academy is celebrating its thirty-year reunion and you are cordially invited-"

"CORDIALLY!" Jake exploded. The words that had been building up finally found their outlet, and Helen was pretty sure the house was shaking. "The most cordial thing that ever happened at that...that...prison camp was when Corporal Ellenbogen gave me a replacement toothbrush to clean the athletic field after the first one was ground down to a nub!" He lowered his gaze back down to the table and grumbled, "Turns out he gave me my toothbrush to use."

Helen folded the letter and slapped it down on the table. "There's no need to be upset," she told Jake soothingly. "They can't make you go, so just throw the invitation away and forget the whole thing."

Jake looked up again, this time with a gleam in his eyes that made Helen sit back slightly. "I'll do better than that!" he cried. "I'm going to rip it to pieces! No, better, I'll burn it!" He paused thoughtfully. "Honey, do we still have any of those leftover fireworks from the Fourth of July?"

Helen's eyes widened in alarm. "Er...I think burning it would suffice," she suggested. "Over the sink. With a glass of water in arm's reach. In fact, would you like me to do it for you?"

"Aw, Helen! I want to do this myself!" He muttered, snatching the letter and twisting it in his hands angrily, "You burn down one kitchen and everyone holds it against you forever."

"All right, Jakey," Helen replied, trying to calm him down before he combined rage with fire. "You can do it. I'll stand right next to you for...um...moral support."

Jake held the hated invitation over the sink and lit the corner of it with a lighter, only needing twelve attempts to get the lighter to spark. He watched the invitation burn with maniacal delight, almost forgetting to drop it before it burned his fingers.

Helen turned on the tap and doused the smoldering paper. "Do you feel better now?"

Jake's smiled drooped. "Honestly? Not really. This whole thing just reminds me of all of my past screw-ups."

"Poor Jakey," Helen said, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I know just how you feel."

"You?" Jake snorted. "You never make mistakes!"

Helen shook her head as the memory of her own awful day returned. "You should have seen me today," she informed him. "I had the Fiegel case all sewn up! I couldn't lose, and this was going to be my big chance to show Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter that I was real partner material." She dropped back into her seat at the table, and Jake joined her.

"So what happened?" he asked gently.

"I blew it!" she wailed. "Everything was on the line, the judge asked me a simple question, and I completely bungled the whole thing!"

"You gave the wrong answer?" Jake asked, puzzled. His wife was never wrong about anything, or at least that's what she always explained to him.

Helen let out a choked sob and shook her head. "I...I told..." She stopped and buried her face in her hands.

"Just tell me, sweetheart," Jake pleaded.

"I told the truth!" Helen burst out, unable to contain her shame and dismay any longer. "The firm will never forgive me!"

Jake let out a low whistle. "You were...honest? In the middle of a court hearing?"

Tears filled Helen's eyes. "I'm surprised Eric didn't fire me on the spot. It won't happen again, I promise!"

"It's all right, honey," Jake told her, pulling her in for a hug. "I know that's not who you are."

Helen sniffled and relaxed into Jake's arms. "Thanks."

"Sounds like we've both had rough days," Jake remarked. "Maybe we should take it easy this weekend. Do something to relax."

"Not another camping trip," Helen said warningly.

"No, of course not. But...what if we found a way to get back in touch with our roots?"

Helen blinked at her husband. "Are you getting into genealogy?"

"No! Come on, when was the last time we were both truly happy?" he asked.

Helen thought about it. "There was that day your mother was visiting and left early?"

Jake shook his head. "The commune!"

"The-oh." Helen smiled slightly, but asked, "You aren't saying we should go back there? I'm pretty sure that place is a strip mall now."

"Not literally. But we should try recapturing the spirit of the place, right here at home!"

Helen looked skeptical. "You mean like when Willow and Coyote were here and you stopped shaving?"

Jake cringed. "Don't remind me. No, then I was doing it to impress our friends. This time we'd be doing it just for ourselves. What do you say?"

"Well..." Helen tilted her head, thinking back. "It might be nice to get back to basics, just for a few days."

"That's my girl!" Jake said, getting more excited every minute. "And it would be a great opportunity to share some of our old experiences with the girls, too!"

o O o

In the living room, Daria lowered her book and shuddered. Quinn looked up from the TV. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Daria replied. "But I feel a deep sense of dread."

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"More than usual."

o O o

Daria's premonition was confirmed soon after, as the Morgendorffers sat down to their traditional Day-That-Ends-In-Y frozen lasagna dinner.

"Girls," Helen began, taking Jake's hand in hers, "we have a special announcement about this weekend."

"Oh, no!" Quinn cried in dismay. "You're going to have a baby after all!"

"That'd be quite the gestation period," Daria replied, taking a bite of lasagna.

"No one's having a baby this weekend," Helen said. "We're going to spend the weekend trying to recapture our ideals by returning to some of the habits and experiences we learned on the commune."

"Uh huh, that sounds like a lot of fun, good luck with that," Quinn said without looking up from her meal. "So I have a couple of dates to get ready for and-"

"That's the best part, Quinn!" Jake chimed in. "We're all going to do this! Together!"

Daria dropped her fork and Quinn almost spat out her food. "What?!" they asked together.

More gently, Helen explained, "We thought it would be good for you girls to try some...simpler living...along with us."

"You want us to be-ugh-hippies?" Quinn cried. "No way!"

Daria had to agree. "I almost wish it was a new baby."

"We're not talking about anything drastic," Helen reassured them. "Just making a few changes to our lifestyle. In the short term."

"Unless we want to make it perman-OW!" Jake said, yelping as someone kicked him under the table.

"You know," Daria said, "we're not off to a great start. What kind of hippies eat frozen lasagna?"

"That's a good point, Daria," Helen replied, trying to be encouraging. "Starting tomorrow, we're cutting out processed foods! We'll being eating organic and vegetarian for the next few days."

Daria groaned. "Stop digging," she ordered herself.

Quinn looked thoughtful. "That might not be so bad. All that junk food is bad for my pores, anyway."

"That's the spirit!" Jake cheered.

"But the music sucks."

"Hey!" Jake's smile vanished.

Helen held up a hand to stop him. "This isn't a negotiation," she announced in full Lawyer Mode. "We're going to spend the weekend sharing good vibes whether you like it or not, dammit!"

Quinn slumped down in her chair grumpily. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my dates."

"Well, then, I have even more good news for you," Helen told her. "You're going to have to cancel your dates because this is a family weekend. No dates."

"WHAT?!"

"No television."

"WHAT?!" This time it was Daria's turn to be dismayed.

"And no shopping trips."

"I can't live like this!" Quinn wailed. "You're suffocating me!"

"You're too materialistic as it is, Quinn," Helen pointed out. "I think this will be a good experience for you."

Daria, still stinging from the idea of a Sick, Sad World-free weekend, asked, "Will you be asking the Dewitt-Clintons for advice on growing soybeans?"

"We're not going that far," Jake protested. He looked at his wife. "Are we?"

"No." Turning back to her daughters, she continued, "No more arguments. First thing tomorrow morning, you two are going to learn about some of the most beneficial aspects of the 1960s counterculture."

"We're going to take LSD?" Daria asked.

"No!" Helen snapped.

"No!" Jake echoed, hesitating just a little bit too long for Helen's taste.

o O o

True to her word, Helen woke up Daria and Quinn first thing in the morning. "The sun's barely up," Daria groaned, rolling over and pulling her pillow over her head.

Helen plucked the pillow out of her hands. "On the commune, we woke at dawn to greet the birth of a new day," she pointed out.

"You also got stoned regularly and practiced free love," Daria shot back, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to ward off wakefulness. "Are we going to do that today, too?"

Helen pressed her lips together, unable to think of a good response. "Just get up," she finally ordered before continuing to Quinn's room to repeat the thankless task of dragging a sleepy teenager out of bed on a Saturday morning.

"Mom!" Daria heard Quinn shriek. She couldn't help smirking at her sister's overreaction to the early hour. Then Quinn continued, "What are you wearing?"

Curiosity overcame Daria's desire to sleep in and she slipped out of bed and into the hallway. She hadn't looked at her mother earlier, but now she caught the full view of Helen's outfit.

Helen was wearing a long, flowing robe in swirling bright colors. Around her neck hung several strands of odd-looking beads, and the tips of her sandals peeked out from under the swishy skirt.

"You don't expect me to wear anything like that, do you?" Quinn demanded.

"Of course not," Helen said. "But you're welcome to keep your criticism to yourself." She raised an amused eyebrow. "I could have gone with my other commune outfit, you know."

"Which is...?" Daria couldn't help asking.

"Nothing." With that, Helen turned and headed back downstairs.

Quinn and Daria exchanged panicked looks. "The outfit is fine," Quinn squeaked after Helen. To Daria she said, "You don't suppose Dad..."

Daria shuddered. "God could never be so cruel."

o O o

When they came down to breakfast, the girls were relieved to find Jake clothed. He had on a tie-dyed shirt and bell-bottomed jeans, which Quinn chose not to comment on. He also sported an unshaven face, which he displayed proudly as his daughters entered.

"I'm not going to shave all weekend," he announced happily. "Isn't it great?"

Helen glanced down at her legs. "Maybe I'll do the same," she mused.

"What?!" Jake whirled to face her, then caught himself. "I mean, great! Good for you! Smash those, uh, preconceptions and all that."

Helen rolled her eyes at his obviously false tone, but dropped the subject. "Breakfast is almost ready," she told Daria and Quinn.

"I was just going to have a bowl of Model Crunch," Quinn said.

"And I was going to have a bowl of go-back-to-bed," Daria added without optimism.

"That cereal is nothing but refined sugar and processed grains," Helen said, ignoring Daria. "You're both going to have a nutritious breakfast today!" She set down two bowls full of something brown that didn't look particularly appetizing...or even edible.

"What is this?" asked both Daria and Quinn together, briefly shocking each other with a rare moment of agreement.

"Chia seeds," Helen replied with a smile. "They're full of fiber, protein, and...um..." She paused to check her notes, discreetly tucked into her sleeve. "...omega-3 fatty acids!"

"Fat?!" Quinn shrieked, jerking back from the table as if she expected the seeds to attack her.

Daria shrugged and took a bite, crunched down, and immediately spat them back out again. "I don't think these are supposed to break your teeth, are they?"

Helen snapped her fingers. "That's right, chia seeds are the ones you're supposed to cook!"

Daria pushed the bowl away. "I think I'll pass."

Jake reached into the fridge. "How about some nice, fresh berries instead?" he offered, holding out a serving dish.

Daria and Quinn exchanged a quick glance, both remembering the family's disastrous camping trip. "No thanks," they both said in unison. They looked at each other again. "This is getting creepy," they said, also at the same time.

"I didn't forage for these," Jake pointed out. "I bought them this morning along with the rest of this cra-I mean, healthy, nature-friendly food!"

"I'd rather just go hungry if it's all right with you," Daria replied.

Helen sighed and pulled a couple of small packages out of a box. "Fine. At least have a granola bar." She tossed one to each of the girls, who inspected them thoroughly before finally eating them.

Once breakfast was over and Daria and Quinn had turned down their mother's offer of Chai tea, the Morgendorffers gathering in the living room. "Where's the remote?" Daria asked.

"It's been put away," Helen said firmly.

"You mean I have to get up and turn the channels? Like some kind of neanderthal?" Quinn demanded.

"We aren't watching TV today," Helen said. "We're going to do something even better!"

"After the rousing success of breakfast, I'm going to lower my expectations to ground level," Daria remarked, sitting down on one of the couches.

"We're going to do some transcendental meditation!" Jake announced.

"I was aiming too high," Daria sighed.

o O o

The next twenty minutes were spent largely in silence as the family sat on the living room floor, mentally repeating their chosen mantras. Helen's was "Work is Life...Work is Life...Work is Life..." Jake's was "Go to Hell, Old Man...Go to Hell, Old Man...Go to Hell, Old Man..." Quinn's was "This is stupid...This is stupid...This is stupid..." Daria just counted by prime numbers until the twenty minutes ended.

"Thank God that's over!" Quinn exploded as soon as the meditation was over. "Twenty minutes of silence? That was the worst!"

"Twenty minutes without hearing one word about dating or fashion or shopping? That was time well-spent," Daria retorted, then cringed as she realized that she was technically defending her parents.

"That's enough, girls," Helen warned, crossing over to the CD player. She turned it on and the sound of Peter, Paul, and Mary soon filled the room.

"Ugh," Quinn muttered. "Can we go back to the silence?"

o O o

After an unenthusiastic (on the part of Daria and Quinn) round of Zen gardening, the Morgendorffers moved onto henna tattoos. "I don't know," Daria said thoughtfully as Jake drew a peace symbol on Helen's forearm. "I'm already pretty happy with the tattoo I've got. Wanna see it?"

The peace symbol smeared into a wobbly spiral as Jake dropped his brush and started to hyperventilate. "Rake the sand, Jakey!" Helen ordered him, pointing at his Zen garden. "Keep raking!" She quickly put away the henna and glared at Daria. "I don't suppose you have any snarky remarks about doing some tie dye instead?"

Daria opened her mouth to respond, but Quinn beat her to it. "We're going to just sit here and ruin some perfectly good clothes?"

Jake, finally recovering his breath, shook his head. "We'll use some of your mother's and my old clothes."

"Oh." Quinn calmed down. "Good."

"But don't worry; you won't be left out! You'll get to wear some of the finished products, too!"

"You wouldn't!"

"Right, because they've been so reasonable up to this point," Daria told her.

o O o

Once every bit of old clothing Jake and Helen owned was covered in swirling bright colors, the family moved on to the drum circle. Daria's observation that it was technically a square was ignored by all. Jake began slapping out a steady beat, followed by Helen. Quinn sighed and half-heartedly tapped hers a few times. Daria grumbled, "This will certainly improve that pounding headache that's been building all day."

Helen sweetly replied, "If you're not feeling well, I'd be happy to bring out the healing crystals."

Daria told her what she could do with the healing crystals, and the drum square was held in stony silence from that point onward.

o O o

Next came origami. What Jake lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm, which would have been admirable if it weren't for the many scraps of accidentally torn paper that littered the floor around him after only a few minutes.

Quinn squinted at the directions for a butterfly, then at her own creation. It looked more like an eldritch sea monster than anything else. "I thought hippies were supposed to break the rules, not follow them," she complained. "This is hard!"

Daria slapped down a completely unfolded sheet of paper. "Look," she announced. "I made a handkerchief."

Fifteen paper cuts later, Helen put down her final swan and announced that their next activity would be to start a compost pile in the front yard.

"You can't be serious!" Quinn yelped.

"I agree," Daria chimed in. "I draw the line at playing with garbage."

"Never mind that," Quinn said. "Outside? Where people will see me? How could this get any worse?"

"You'll also probably ruin your clothes," Daria helpfully pointed out.

Quinn wailed.

"Then again, this could be a great opportunity to try out that groovy new tie-dyed shirt!"

The wail become a howl.

"All right, all right," Jake said quickly. "We'll skip the composting-"

"Good," Daria and Quinn said together, in spite of their implicit agreement to stop doing that.

"-and go straight to the nature hike!"

"No!" they cried, again in unison.

Fortunately for the girls, the hike was called off early due to the lack of any actual nature in the vicinity of their suburban neighborhood. "Let's do some astrology readings instead!" Jake said.

Daria groaned. "I'd rather eat the rest of those raw chia seeds from breakfast."

"That's because you're a Scorpio," Helen said. "It makes you obstinate and intolerant."

"No, I'm obstinate and intolerant about astrology because I have a functioning brain."

Helen ignored her. "Now, Quinn, as a Taurus you are hard-working and intelligent-" Here she had to pause until Daria stopped laughing. "However, you also tend to be introverted and reluctant to meet new people."

Quinn brightened. "You're right! I should really open up more. I could go meet some new friends, go on a few dates, maybe see if anyone's having a party..." She started to get up.

"Sit down, Quinn," Helen ordered.

"Yeah, we have to hear about how laid-back and relaxed Mom is, and about Dad's easy-going willingness to let go of the past," Daria said. "Golly, I had no idea astrology could be so enlightening."

"Maybe we should get out the tarot cards," Jake suggested.

"Maybe we should get out the arsenic-laced Kool-Aid," Daria countered.

"All right," Helen said, resigned. "We'll save the birth charts for later."

Daria frowned. "If we promise to be good, will you let us off with a warning?"

"That's it!" Jake yelled, losing his temper at last. "Go to your rooms!"

Daria and Quinn raced up the stairs. "You're the best, Daddy!" Quinn called out gratefully.

o O o

Unfortunately, the escape to their rooms had one flaw-no soundproofing. The mellow tones of The Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, and the rest of Jake's folk music collection assaulted their ears without ceasing, even through Daria's padded walls. Midway through "Mr. Tambourine Man," Quinn fled into Daria's room and shut the door behind her.

"We have to do something."

Daria looked up from her book. "You distract Dad; I'll cut the power cord to the CD player."

"I mean this whole...hippie thing! It has to stop!"

"Now you know how Nixon felt."

"Huh?"

"Forget it." Daria put her book down. "I know what to do." She headed downstairs to the strains of "Blowin' in the Wind" and found Helen and Jake burning incense and knotting macrame. "This New Age weekend is over," she announced.

"Hey, mellow out, Kiddo!" Jake replied.

"Yeah, Sweetie." Helen smiled serenely. "Just try to enjoy the good vibes, okay?"

Daria turned to Quinn. "Do you notice how calm and relaxed Mom and Dad are?"

"Yeah."

"Does that seem suspicious to you?"

Quinn's eyes widened. "Yeah!"

Daria leaned over her mother, reached into Helen's sleeve, and pulled out the cell phone Helen had stashed there. "Someone's been sneaking off to take work calls."

Helen gasped. "No, I just put that there in case of, uh, emergencies! I would never-" The phone began quietly buzzing as it rang on vibrate-only mode. Her eyes rapidly darted between the phone and Daria's impassive face. "I just...I wasn't...oh, just give me the phone!" She snatched it out of Daria's hand and answered it. "Helloooo? Hi, Eric! Yes, you're absolutely right! It's only a conflict of interest if you get caught." She looked at the three angry faces staring at her. "I'llcallyoubacklaterbye." She hung up guiltily.

"Helen, how could you?" Jake demanded, throwing down his macrame. "We agreed to spend the whole weekend living up to our hippie ideals of peace, love, and-"

"-junk food?" Daria knelt down next to Jake's chair and pulled out a plastic bag. She turned it upside to pour out the contents: Twinkies, beef jerky, and potato chips. "Mom, didn't you wonder why you kept hearing a crinkling sound every time you came back from whatever excuse you made to answer a call from Eric?"

Jake muttered, "She said it was 'woman stuff.' I didn't want to know."

Daria waved him off. "The point is, no one in this house is actually interested in living the 60s lifestyle."

Helen and Jake exchanged guilty looks but didn't reply.

"Can we please just call this off?" Quinn asked. "I don't think I can take any more."

There was a long pause, but at least Helen nodded. "All right. No more hippie stuff."

"Thank you," Daria and Quinn both said together, then groaned. "Can we stop doing that, too?" Daria grumbled.

As the girls turned to leave, Helen quietly mused, "Did your father and I ever tell you about our brief stint within the punk subculture?"

Quinn and Daria locked eyes in a panic. "Run!" they both said.