An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Fun at the “besticul”

Here are the girls after a successful jaunt to the face painting booth on Saturday afternoon, Leta with blue and purple hearts, Marlo with “THE PINK FLOWER, THE PINK ONE!” No, I didn’t pose them under the MUMMIES sign you see there behind them, that was just me being a very bad, very coincidental photographer.

Marlo kept asking what was going on, why are we here, what is all this? And I told her it was a street festival. I don’t think she’s heard that word very often because after everything was over and we were in the car driving home, she repeatedly asked from the backseat, “Are we going to the besticul tomorrow?”

“The what?”

“The besticul. I want to go to the besticul tomorrow.”

“I didn’t hear you. You’re going to have to say it one more time.”

“THE BESITCUUUUUUUUL!”

Marlo, you are my favorite mummy.

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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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