Well, okay, maybe this isn't a great picture -- I think that the picture I posted from the road on Sunday was better, insofar as Shae doesn't look quite so slack-jawed -- but it does give you a good look at Shae's dress for the wedding, which was really something. I love this dress, which is something I can't recall having ever said before. You know I am not a girlie-girl kind of mom, but when it's a dress-up occasion, I don't fart around: my kid is pretty, and I aim to put her in frocks worthy of Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn.
Don't worry, it was also a steal: $85 retail, got it for $25 about a week before Christmas. Worth every penny, because she looked so pretty. (Oh before you ask, yes, I did pick out this particular dress in part because it matches her handbag, which was a Christmas present. Just because she's a Classy Broad doesn't mean she can't also be a Garanimal. And it doesn't make the dress any less awesome.)
So long, farewell, au revoir, auf Wiedersehen -- we let our toddler taste her first champagne. (She kept calling it "soda," which means we'll be able to put ginger ale in a glass and fake her out for another decade or so.) Also, this picture reminds me very much of a story, kind of a family legend at this point, that involves my little sister running around at a wedding, drinking all the wine that was left in those little shot cups after the toast was over. Hey -- it was the '80s. Mistakes were made.
And this, right here, this is the face that charmed a dozen waiters and made me come undone. She was a perfect little lady, saying "Please" and "Thank you" and eating her salad and drinking her chocolate milk and practically fighting off marriage proposals already. I ask you -- what immunity can I possibly develop to this face? Those sparkling eyes, those chiclet teeth, those perfect cheeks, those unbelievable eyelashes?
Dudes, we are DONE FOR.