cute shoes are involved

When we woke up this morning, the clock said it was 11:50am. It wasn’t (the clock had gotten unplugged during the night and apparently wanted to mess with our heads out of revenge), but the whole day has seemed off because of it. For example, when we took our Saturday walk past Tulip’s Bakery, I decided to get a sausage roll. Because of Charlie and Lola, you see.

As it turns out, sausage rolls only sound good when they’re being discussed by cute animated British children (although, as far as sausage rolls go, the ones from Tulip’s are practically world-renowned; Not So was not unhappy to finish mine as well as his own). I had to take a detour past Starbucks so I could have some breakfast. You may not know this about me, but skipping my breakfast is a very, very bad idea. You know what happens when you feed a mogwai after midnight? A similar thing happens to me when I fail to get my breakfast.

After our Starbucks adventure, we headed over to the St. Johns bridge 75th anniversary celebration. Sound familiar? This is probably the third St. Johns bridge 75th anniversary celebration they’ve had this year. I say more power to them. 75 years is a long time. When I turn 75, I intend to celebrate the shit out of it. I will be all about the partying at 75. Not So will only be 73, so he will be snubbed for his youth and inexperience. Wait until you’re 75, I will say to him. You’ll understand.

On the way home we passed a cute little shop called LilyToad that just opened near the John Street Cafe, and my heart did a little pitter-pattery dance. New and used baby clothes! Gently used gear! Baby shoes! I love the baby shoes. Does our child need more shoes? Who cares! Because, look:

(The color in this picture is off – those are red, not pink. Race car red. Zoom!)

Now we’re home and I have homework, which I am going to do in lieu of consuming large amounts of candy. Because I am virtuous. Or something.

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