Last night I picked my sister and her to adorable kiddos up at the airport. After a day of FRANTICALLY trying to get the kitchen into a toddler-friendly condition I flew out to get them. As I drove down the passenger pick up lane where "ONLY WAITING FOR PASSENGERS, NO PARKING" is allowed I spied my adorable sister in a beautiful red trenchcoat and and adorable black cloche hat.
But what really caught my eye was the almost 3 year old standing up on her tippy toes in the back of the double stroller. There was a open mouthed grin from ear to ear and it was clear that the squeal of joy coming from her mouth was probably reverberating off every cement beam in the structure.
I can't be sure.
I was still in the car.
I stopped, jumped out as quickly as my home-renovation-sore muscles would allow and ran to my little Charlotte girl. After a hug I was presented with a gift.
An art project colored on a white paper airplane barf bag.
It has officially become the first and perfect piece of art that is prominently displayed on my brand spankin new beautiful space-aged fridge.