Well, it was a dress. From the sale rack of the Gap in Rome. Making it only the second most expensive dress I’ve ever purchased, probably. It was cobalt blue and lovely and had pockets and felt like silk but wore like poly, if you catch my drift. So I didn’t even cry when JP flung olive-oil soaked bruschetta at me during our 5!hour!long! Easter feast for 12. Italy knows how to get down on liturgical holidays, let me tell you.
Let me tell you a few other things: my laptop is still broken. My sister/nanny is leaving this weekend …(and is juuuuust about ready to either kill my kids or enter the convent, so probably not a moment too soon.) My camera is lost. Our internet ship still hasn’t come in. I unwisely ended the glorious Triduum by drinking wine from an unmarked and unlabeled plastic bottle. I could go on, but I’ll just wrap this bad boy up by assuring you that while I’m hopeful I’ll have internet access outside my husband’s office one day again, I’m not counting on it happening in the month of April. What can I say…lowered expectations.
Hope the holy-day was bright and blessed for you and yours. My children ate giant chocolate eggs filled with elastic wristbands featuring characters from the Jungle Book, wore matching sweater vests to Mass (which we forgot to spring forward for, did I mention that happened only yesterday here in Italia?) and then proceeded to gorge themselves on imported Peeps and hunks of green playdoh until bedtime around 10 pm. Today is already awesome.