The Situation

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A few days ago Ellie started doing a fun little parlor trick where she pulls her shirt up in the most public of places to show off her bloated little toddler belly to any pedophile who happens to be in the right place at the right time.

A bloated little toddler belly which in her mind is actually a ripped set of rock hard abs.



This is all fine and good if we're in the privacy of our own home. Now that Lila has been born Ellie has seen the horrific aftermath of carnage that having a baby can do the human body and loves reminding me of what a stretch mark free stomach looks like.

But I just can't have her walking around with her shirt over her face in church. Or even worse, when I'm not around. Today I went to pick her up from the gym nursery and a group of kids had gathered around her while she was swinging upside down from a greased up stripper pole with a leather strap in her teeth.

I had a long conversation with her in the car on the way home about the importance of making sure the audience has either money or beads when she does something like that.

I don't want her growing up to be cheap.

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