When I got back from the funeral, I decreed that the girls and I were going to have A Day Of Spoiling. And so we did.
It started with taking the oldest to Velvet Grip for her 17th birthday present. More ironmongery.
That is, she says, all the ironmongery she wants on her face. Thank god, sez I.
Then the next day, we all shlepped out the door to the Santa Monica Promenade and The Day Of Spoiling Commenced. This started with a lavish breakfast at Cafe Buna, with berry french toast, mexican mochas and bacon, but we inhaled our breakfast before I remembered I had the camera in my purse.
No trip to Sephora is complete without a little streetside primping, after.
It was not a day of spoiling for one organ grinder and his monkey. It was a day of making lots of money.
I wish I’d gotten pictures of the ice cream, strawberry, banana and dark chocolate crepes we had to tie off the Day Of Spoiling, but we kind of inhaled those before I remembered we had a camera. That seems to be a theme with us.
It was a lot of fun. We’re all pretty game to make this a tradition!