the fact that both glasses of red wine spilled by hapless husbands mere millimeters from my white babies missed the mark. Maybe I should not call them hapless, maybe they are better described as accurate. I have walked away with only a stain on the internal sole of the left shoe. I guess the practical consequences of wearing white shoes to a raucous 40th is never something I contemplate when I am in the shops. But perhaps I should. Third time lucky may be coming up sooner than I know.
I am grateful for Miuccia Prada making me smile every single season. And I am grateful for Monday being only one day away from Tuesday, when I get to open the orange happy anniversary box.