Wednesday I came home, loopy and drooling from a triple wisdom tooth extraction, to find a new-to-me catalog of lovely home goods. Maybe I've been living under a rock, but until that semi-lucid moment I'd never heard of Serena & Lily, purveyors of such lovely items as the following:
I thought maybe they read my blog, or maybe they know my sister-in-law just sent me the most decadent Eberjay pajama's for my birthday, but no matter what the reason, I was sure that Serena & Lily wanted me personally to know about their lovely wares, until I flipped over the catalog to the back page.
It was addressed to my daughter. She's a baby.
I've always suspected she's got a secret life, all of which is more fabulous than what I think she enjoys, which is me putting a paper napkin over her face at Panera and saying, "where's the baby? Is she under my bread bowl?" as she struggles to bend her chubby little arms to remove said napkin from her head. Watching it reminds me how I felt about putting on my socks when I was 39 weeks pregnant. How did she get on their mailing list? Did she go online to request the catalog? Does she have a friends & family discount? So many questions. Apparently she not only knows what foutas are but also knows her address, although our last name was spelled wrong, so I guess she doesn't know everything.
Am I the last person to know about Serena & Lily? Have you ever purchased anything there? Have you ever run into my daughter at the store?