Tired of going through so many disposable wipes and tissues, I am adopting the hanky technique I was raised on.
Why is it that we repeat the horrors that our parents forced upon us? I remember my father whipping out his red hanky, licking it and rubbing it all over my face. His spit drying on my face. yuck!
Anyhow, I tell myself I will not resort to the spit, but have little faith I can stick to it this thin promise.
Now the question of the day, what color to hanky to buy?
As a resident of San Francisco, I am familiar with the hanky code. (“a traditional form of signaling to others what your sexual preferences and interests are. Gay men used this code to communicate with each other in the noisy and distracting environment of gay bars. Although not as widely used these days, it is still a worthwhile resource and is, among those who know, a great conversation starter.”)
I found a chart of the original gay Hanky Code online and adopted it to the mommy park scene. Now moms need not sit on park benches alone watching their little terrors. With the Mommy Hanky Code, conversation starting is super easy.
After a quick 7$ trip to a shop on 24th st and Folsom Theo and I choose our colors for the day.
Raised a feral hippy child in New Mexico, this dumpster diving compost lover wants to help green your home.