FLYING TIMES.

Today, the Hub and I took Baby J to the Air Show.  The Blue Angels were performing and I really needed a funnel cake.  It was hot but breezy.  We used copious amounts of sunblock.  On the baby.  Also, a SPF 50 hat.  On the baby.  Let's not also forget the noise cancelling ear protection.  For the baby.

In the end, Baby J seemed to enjoy the day outside as much as Hub and I enjoyed the nearly obscene people-watching.  Apparently, when it comes to shorts, "high waisted" also means "camel toe."  I just need to say this. . .

When your child is capable of walking long distances while easily "keeping up" with the adults in your group, s/he probably doesn't belong in a stroller.  At all.

This is doubly so when your child's legs are so long that their feet constantly drag under the front wheels. You can't even be mad at your kid for this.  It's not like they ran over something and stopped the flow of traffic.  No.  YOU ran over your kid.  Ugh.

Reconsider your use of a stroller.  You look as suspect as those parents who tell themselves that "it's a backpack" rather than a leash attached to shoulder straps.  Really.

Meanwhile, I am not an innocent of stupidity.  The Hub and I are completely sunburned.  I'm talking about my hair-part, face, forearms (GREAT start to this year's farmer tan!), and the backs of my legs.  Basically, I look like the new girl at the make-up counter got at me with a handful of blusher, I am a married Indian woman with a Sindoor (go "google" it, lazy-pants!), with 3/4 red gloves on my arms, and some really ill-fitting leg-warmers.   Hooray.  So much for leading by example.