If we happened to run into each other on the street this is what you would most likely see: a woman with dishevelled hair and an unbecoming stoop rummaging for baby wipes or a tissue or her keys, while her baby sat in the pram and her preschooler sang loudly or told her what his latest make-believe story was and which character he would be and which character she would be and what they would do. And if you stopped to talk he’d probably tell you what character you could be too. Hi.
And you can be the princess! Her almost four-month old feminist sensibilities are shocked. Simply shocked.4 Comments