Alright, I haven't been keeping up. I sometimes have to remind myself that you won't all kill me if I write a boring, rushed, vague sort of post. Because you haven't killed me yet. And lookee here!
This afternoon I went to Ivy's 2nd birthday party, where I took about 100 photos. None of which turned out well, at all. Rest assured that there were cupcakes, margaritas, and little kids running around in sombreros. Josh, who cooks at Modern Club, did the food. That's how good the food was. When we sang the birthday song for Ivy, she got scared and ran to hide in my lap. Mine. Granted, Shannon was holding a cupcake with lit candles in it, so I was a necessary second choice, but come on. Everybody witnessed it, and now they know that she likes me better than them. Yes.
Let me build myself up in small ways, please.
4 comments:
Without a doubt, you ARE her favourite. I understand. I really do.
And um, I think I need to get into Ivy's Cool Club. Why is her life, the life of a TWO YEAR OLD, fancier than mine?
I ask myself the same question. Some babies, I guess, inherit fancy, are born into it and decorated with it. Other babies, Murakami babies, for splendid example, are producers of their own fancy, fancy independant of any/all fancy types surrounding them. (I worry that this is a slight on Ivy. Clearly, she also has some fancy-producing qualities of her own, as she tends to shun toys for balls of crushed paper, et cetera).
Hee hee. Toddler theme parties! I think the next one should be a Tarts and Vicars party. Do they make fishnet tights for wee ones? I bet you can get them in Surrey.
Ner-NAY! You must bloooog! Even if you're a sicky, you must, because if you don't I'll have nothing else to do but browse the ikea web catalogue for the trazillionth time. Nobody wants that, not even ikea.
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