It's the last week of school here; or more accurately, "school," because it's all free time and movies and water balloons from here until Friday. Soon I'll be the mother of third, fifth and eighth grade children. One of whom is going to be officially taller than me in about five minutes.
(Maybe even sooner if my hair keeps deflating in the humidity like that.)
Nothing like a little Baltimore sidewalk pizza, amirite?
This is the finish line of the annual Baltimore Pride High Heel Race, which you will be SHOCKED to hear I did not enter. Just watching it was the most terrifying 30-plus seconds of my life, as all the various ankle/knee/elbow/face/butt injuries I've accrued over the years flashed before my eyes.
(I wore sensible flats aka combat boots.)
(Someone pls buy me this shirt.)
Ike's been wearing those necklaces and various lanyards everywhere since Saturday; please note that I at least removed the condoms from several of them before he went to school this morning.
Jason and Ezra had to leave the festivities a little early to attend sushi-making class.
Ezra only ended up eating about three pieces of actual sushi, because he ate every single leftover scrap of avocado, pepper and cucumber off every single prep station in the class. So I guess we technically bought him a crudites-making class with a side of sushi rolling. (He'd also eaten some Sidewalk Pizza, a corn dog and a couple lollipops tossed from the parade floats by drag queens. Then he came home and announced that he was starving, when's dinner?)