Better Than a Crack House

Driving down the street, I looked into the rear view mirror just in time to see Lula’s eyes nearly explode out of her head. She turned to her sister and screamed, “LOOK, SIS! A BLOW HOUSE!” which was immediately followed by, “Awww, you missed it.”

I turned to Roo and we both had the same look on our faces. We were both like…Uh, what the fuck is a blow house? I thought to myself, we’re not in East St. Louis…surely she’s not talking about a crack house. And then I prayed to God that my six year old didn’t actually know what a crack house was.

In the meantime, Roo looked at her sister with a blank face and said, “Uh, Lu…what the heck is a blow house?”

Lu said, “You know, sissy…A. BLOW. HOUSE. You get in and jump around.”

Oh, yeah. A. BLOW. HOUSE. Duh.

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