Bad Toro, Bad Mom

 When I came home from France in January, Martin was supposed to come with me.  He got re-routed to Scotland for work and I had to go home through Madrid, Spain, all by myself.  When we separated at the airport, he reminded me to spend the remaining Euro, because it's worth nothing at home.  This is why he should have traveled with me.  I found these great water bottles for the boys in the Duty Free Shop.  They are the size they like to take to school and they are some sort of mascot for Spain.  BAD TORO.  I thought they were cool.

 Needless to say, the boys thought they were great and started taking them to school.  Until . . . . .Hayden told me a few days ago that he was not taking them to school ever again.  EVER.  He said the kids made fun of his bottle and called him not nice names.  Of course, I made some response as to "They're just jealous.  They just wish they had a cool water bottle like you."  Blah blah.

Then I looked a little closer.  Kids and their gutter minds.  I'm sure if Martin had traveled with me, he would have noticed our masculine little friend and stopped my purchase and saved my child from his day of torture.

Bad Toro.