the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Healing an old wound

Last night I took a bath with Leta because I had worked out later in the day, and while we were both scrubbing our arms and shoulders she leaned over my right leg and pointed to a round scar I have on my shin. “Wuss at?” she asked.

“That’s a boo-boo,” I said.

“BOO-BOO?” she repeated.

“Yes. Boo-boo.”

She pointed at it again and said, “BOO-BOO!” and then poked her right index finger in my chest until it jiggled and said, “BOO-BIES!”

My initial reaction was to bury my head under the water, but I wanted her to know that she was smart for making that connection. “Yes!” I said. “That’s right. Those are my boobies.” Jon was standing by the sink and had to muffle his laughter with a bath towel.

She started kicking her feet like she always does when she is proud of herself, and while splashing water as high as the edge of the tub she added, “BIG BOO-BIES!”

That’s when Jon nearly fell over.

Looks like our kid has no problems with her brain, but we may need to have her eyes checked out.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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