Forgot the wool caps

Come on, sing along "In the ghetto (in the ghett-oooo!)" Ok, it's not really the ghetto, but the crowd there that day was. Natalie was pretty proud of her new stunt. And yes, it's mid-march and she's wearing a tank top. Fashion over function.

Larry's favorite Co-Op jab is to ask me if I got a wool-knit hat with my membership, since the crowd that shops there tends to be more of the earthen variety. The kids and I went there to get seeds for the garden and some salsa (Salsa Mama is hands down the best salsa ever. She's at the farmers market on Saturdays too. Get the medium, the hot will melt your lips off). Afterwards the kids wanted to play, so we walked over to the ghetto playground with our co-op snacks (you know, organic milk, organic blueberry-yogurt raisins and vegetarian gummi bears). While I was sitting on the graffiti-covered bench, I got to shake hands with a man that "had to say 'Chello' to me", and I got a big 1-toothed grin too. Brady came running over demanding (loudly) "What did that man do? What did he say to you? What did he want? What did you tell him?" And I tried to casually tell him that all he said was hello and shook my hand, like me shaking hands with strange homeless alcoholic/tweakers is totally normal. All the while keeping my hand casually away from my body until I could get back to the car and some wipes and hand sanitizer.

A random photo that appeared on my camera from Brady.