LB has finally gone full swimmy. I ordered four rashguard shirts for her to wear, so we could stop the fussing that happens everyday she has to wear something other than her rashguard. Perhaps this means:
- our permissive parenting will produce a weed-smoking, performance artist who specializes in uncomfortable performances of vintage Miley Cyrus at the local VFW karaoke
- LB will grow up to tell funny, poignant stories about her lesbian moms who were so chill that the responded to her obvious sensory issues by buying her a bunch of swimsuits
- LB will decide to swim from Cuba to the US, or some other terrifying stunt that will make me cry
But today when we opened the package it was happy time, and "Is this for me to wear mama?"
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