TICKLED PINK

Today, I’m tickled pink. I’m still riding on the high of my Italian vacation last week with the girls, which is why I’ve chosen to feature another Prada shoe to celebrate Angelica. I bought these shooze approximately 12 years ago on EBay. I needed a pale pink shoe to complete some silly, matchy-matchy ensemble that I was wearing for a wedding. Pale pink paillettes? What was I thinking? Anyway…they were dirt cheap. I even question if they are authentic because I really don’t recall them coming with an authentification card. At any rate, they did not fit so it was a colossal waste of money. But it didn’t seem to matter then because that was my pre-children era, when I didn’t have to think about walking away from a great pair of shooze on sale so that I could pay for a week of their summer camp. I never ended up wearing them, but I resurrected them from the bottom corner of my closet because they really seemed to concur with today’s theme of being TICKLED PINK.


As you know, I left Jackis with the kids for four days to enjoy a blissful, girly long weekend in Italy. I came home on Sunday afternoon and was pleasantly surprised to find that the house was relatively clean (the vacuum cleaner had even been dragged out and used, although it was left front and center in the middle of the living room when you first enter the house). The beds were made. Grocery shopping had been done for the week. Garbage had been taken out. Laundry hampers were empty. The kids were bathed and clean. The dog seemed content. Wow! I was really impressed that Jackis had seemingly impeccable control of the situation! Maybe the notion that I’m somewhat needed in my family was inflated in my brain, after all.

However, yesterday I came home from work to find JV playing on the computer. My eye was immediately drawn to his feet.

“JV, why are you wearing my socks?”

“They’re not your socks, Mamagirl, they’re mine” he responded.

“No they are not. They are pink.”

“Hellllllooooo? M-ommm?” he started, in his pre-teen, haughty cadence. “Do you remember? You went to Italy this weekend???”

“So? What does that have to do with the price of rice in China” I retorted.

“Dad did the laundry. He threw my red soccer socks in the laundry and now everything is pink”.

I went upstairs and peeked into the laundry basket that was neatly piled with folded clothes from the dryer. Sure enough, Jackis’ t-shirts were pink. Gus’ boxer shorts were pink. And JV’s socks were all pink.

My houseful of testosterone packed boyz now have bureaus filled with pink under garments. So I’m tickled pink to see that they actually do still need me in some capacity. Even if it’s as their laundry hag.

(And by the way....Gussy Man would DIE if he knew I was posting pictures of his knickers.  Which he is now refusing to wear.)

Prada, pink satin slides with paillettes