You're not the boss of me.

Tonight, the kid and I had dinner at Zona Fresca, and I spontaneously decided to head over to the park for a quick walk before they closed. The park closes their main road an hour before closing for exercising, which is great. I think the loop is 1.7 miles. It's really pretty, and there were a bunch of people rollerblading, running, and bike riding. I pushed Malena in her stroller as she chatted away.

It was a beautiful night, just around twilight, but I was totally wearing the wrong shoes. My new and hastily-purchased flip flops started ripping the skin off of my feet about 1/4 mile into our walk. And so I did the rest of the walk barefoot. The asphalt felt much better than the hellshoes, but my feet started to sting by the time we got back to the car.

I must have winced while tiptoeing around and opening car doors, because Malena looked at me and sternly admonished, "You can't just walk in your feet. You have to put shoes on. Look at me, I have shoes on." Then she turned and began climbing up into her carseat in a serious manner.

Two guys leaning against a car and drinking water after a long run looked at her with one raised eyebrow, and laughed at me in sympathy.

Whose kid is this?

Those aren't my feet in the photo, by the way. They're Ramses I, and are about 3,298 years old. They look like mine, though.