The Date.

 Remember those Daddy-Daughter dates of yore?

At church?

I had forgotten about those, because no one ever did them anymore, it seemed.

Except for our Rockin new ward!

It was announced last month that there would be a Daddy-Daughter Dance.

It would be 50's themed.

4 could not (COULD NOT!) contain her excitement.

Mostly because she knew she would score an outfit.

But also because she loves to go on dates.

In the past, she has only dated me, or me and Hughes together.

Never just Hughes.

To say she was excited is an understatement.

 The week of the date arrived.

I scoured the thoughts in my head and realized 4 had nothing suitable to wear.

So, 4 and I popped on over to Joanne and scored the cutest felt fabric you have EVER seen....you see it, right?  Could it be cuter?  And a pre-made iron-on poodle.

Sold and Sold.

We brought home our finds, totally giddy with excitement.

A seam up the back, a hem, and some elastic around the waist, and WALA! 

Perfection.

The Poodle is awesome too...and the curly leash (ribbon) she insisted upon, which was

the only pain in the butt of the entire process.

Hughes scored a new V-Neck t-shirt, and I schooled him in the

process of pegging his jeans.

Then I rolled up the sleeves of his T-shirt.

Then I said HUBBA HUBBA....in my head.

And then they left for their date.

And it was awesome.

And they both loved it.

What a happy life we lead!

Dear Hughes:

Two words.

Hubba.

Hubba.

xoxo,

M