"When your mom makes you a Pussy Hat, you kinda sorta hafta march."
That Big Cuter's reply to the assorted "Nice hat!" comments my first effort at pussy hatting elicited.
San Francisco's event started at 3pm, in a downpour,
but the crowd stretched as far as his eye could see.
He thinks he was the only straight, white, not-with-a-woman, man in the crowd,
but, "You raised me right, Mom; of course I had to go. Besides, you made that hat... that anatomically incorrect hat.... that PUSSY hat.... so how could I make excuses about the rain?"
Have I mentioned that I love my boy?
I also love my little cousin.
who is quite mighty, indeed.
A friend's husband walked like this
and felt the love, for sure.
You've seen the older women with "I can't believe I'm doing this shit again!" signs.
You've seen the haters and the punsters and the calls to Resistance, but this one is, I must admit, my favorite:
We're going to Phoenix to see Auntie M tomorrow; I'll stop in to IKEA and consider the choices.