MY NAME IS...GLADIATOR

Since I rarely wear flat heeled shooze, these are the closest thing that I have to gladiator sandals. I’m gonna need them tonight. You see, tonight, I am hosting a pizza and movie night for a handful of Gus’ friends to celebrate his recent birthday. Since we celebrated his birthday as a family in Disney last weekend, we agreed to not have a big birthday party, but rather, a few boys over to run wild in the house. Now, Gus runs with a pack of boys who are equally as barbaric as he is. I am expecting a bunch of bestiari – capable of killing 100 lions and decapitating running ostriches in the arena – running wild around my house tonight. I know there will be running. There will likely be bellowing. I’m sure there will be wrestling on the ground. I’m actually a little bit frightened and I wish that I had a shield and some armor to protect myself.

But I already know how I’m going to survive the night…you see, as I serve pizza and ice cream cake, put DVDs into the player and try not to get hurt in the line of fire, I’m going to pretend that they are real Roman gladiators of the Senate and People of Rome – complete with heaving, sweaty, Adonis-molded pectorals. How’s THAT for some ambrosial imagery??

Boutique 9, brown leather caged "Driven" sandals