Last night we went to visit Sacha in his apartment. I was surprised to see that he had taken the colorful things out. Happily surprised! It was a furnished apartment... but he had the owner de-furnish it.
Sacha's touch was apparent... red is his color, he has preferred red since the day he could point. Red is his favorite color because I ate a million strawberries while pregnant with him, plus the fact that I was picking strawberries in the forest when I went into labor.
Sacha rolls his eyes whenever I say that.
But I know it is true.
As I sat on Sacha's bed with black sheets, French Husband and Sacha put up red curtains.
They put up the rod, measured the curtain, cut off the excess, glued the hem, ironed it and then hung it.
An adventure for a non handy-man husband and a creative son.
I know I am nuts when I iron the bedsheets on the bed, but look where these two ding dongs were ironing the curtain.
Creative ironing must be genetic.
I had a front row seat.
Front row seat and loved every minute of sitting back.
A broken wrist has some hidden advantages.... sitting back is one of them, not ironing is another.
My men proud and tall, standing in front of the red curtain.
Sacha and French Husband: Curtain Hangers and low riding pants.