The lil’ monkey moons at her downstairs cousin, who is demonstrating some primo Pride pride.
Flip-side of his sign? “I was a witness when my Grandmas got married.” Which he was. In 2004 and 2008. He rollerbladed all the way up Market Street, complete with a rainbow flag superhero cape. Didn’t get the blades wedged in ONE streetcar track, nor ONE Muni airvent. Now that’s superheroic, and I’m very proud of him.
Consider this a wee little Pride pictorial teaser. Today I’m solo w/ both kids, and Little Farm beckons. Later I’ll do another multi-photo, ramblingly-narrated dealie like for Baba’s Day. You’ve been warned.
Lesbian Dad is written by a parent who answers to the name "Baba" and works toward a world in which amor does indeed vincit omnia. 
That picture is fabulous! I posted the few pics I took at Pride on my blog. I wish that I had taken more but it’s hard when you are wrangling the kids through crowds…as you well know.
Thanks, Vikki. True enough: very hard to negotiate heat, crowds, and streetcar tracks whilst herding wee ones. Herding pictures of them adds an extra special challenge. Fortunately, for most of the walk up Market St. we had three adults in our immediate group, and another half-dozen chums in shouting distance. And another several hundred within even further shouting distance, since they clump all the family/kids/youth stuff together. Yet and still.
Great pictures you have over there at your place.