Saturday was the day of the dance. I took her to get her nails done. She is now smitten with the French manicure. Her toes were an understated blush. Perfect. She met up with her amigas to do hair and make up. Regretfully, I have little to offer her on these fronts. They did well. When we came for pictures, the ladies were all transformed and looked at least five years older. Beautiful too. Classy. Although they are quite beautiful before any of the accouterments.
We dropped them at the dance and decided to opt for a cozy place for dinner on the damp and misty night. I had Pizza Napoletana on the brain. Mike agreed. We could not agree on the exact pie so we got two more than happy to have leftovers. Quattro Formaggi and Diavola were good pairings. We ended our meal with a little Limoncello.
Needless to say, after carbs and montepulciano and aperitifs, I was in bed before Lily was back at her friend's baking brownies and watching movies after leaving lots of DNA (sweat) on the dance floor.
She had tryouts for a fast pitch team on Sunday. I enjoyed a tough work out and then made one of my favorite dinners: grilled chicken, pesto pasta and a caprese salad with balsamic. Mike killed the thighs on the grill. They were so so good. I'm usually a breast girl.
It was a low key weekend. I am a big fan of those. Especially this time of year. I enjoyed puttering around the house and in the yard. I also was happy for the time to deep clean and steal pages and bake a ridiculous new skillet cookie smash up. It doesn't take much to make me happy. It's my truth.
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