The other night as the Little Businessman and Co. were scanning through the day’s photos to see what I’d been up to, Cecilia spotted this photo. Forget the tin man to the right, her eyes sparkled at this Lambada Rose made out of fabric, at the million tiny mirrors sparkling above the waist, at the volume of it all.
When Mateo tried to skip on to the next photo, she pushed us back for another taste of the sherbet, another whiff of summer peach.
shewhodaresnothing 