My Gucci Baby

This morning Froggy and I went to a BRIS... (a Jewish circumcision ceremony for newborn boys). A couple from our synagogue, who are really better friend's with IceMan, had their first baby and Froggy and I went to represent our family. They have a beautiful house in Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood and I stood in front of their outside garden in awe. Literally, the new Dad, concerned at my gawking, came outside to ask me if everything was okay and did I need a hand with Froggy or something. I quickly apologized and scurried inside.

I walked into their kitchen and looked around at the massive island, gorgeous breakfast nook and counter tops that went on for days. Whoa, I was in heaven. I wanted to whip out the pots and pans and try out the amazing Viking oven and Wolf range that are the kind you only see on Food Network. I secretly love to cook/bake and basically, just be in my kitchen. I was like a kid in a candy store and knew I couldn't touch anything, but was just excited to be there.

After I stopped spinning around the kitchen, I took a moment to look around at the people there and I felt like I was in the middle of an embarrassing dream. You know the dream you have of going to school in your underwear or public speaking in front of a huge audience. It was like I had just walked into a catalog cover spread from Vogue and was totally under dressed. In my skirt, top and Target purse with a duck sticking out of it (Thank you, Froggy) I felt my face grow very hot. My eyes quickly scanned the Stella McCartney couture fashions, Jimmy Choos, stellar accessories and gorgeously made-up women. I was the only one with a baby as an accessory so that right there made me so unique that heads turned.(I guess everyone else left their babies with their nannies) 
I sat down daintily on the custom fabric breakfast chairs and Froggy got a little edgy so I took out a breakfast bar from my purse. Yes, my Target purse can hold a duck AND breakfast bars. People watched as Froggy's hands turned into a sticky blueberry mess. Man, why didn't I pick the apple one... and me wearing my white shirt. People gasped in horror as Froggy grabbed at  my shirt with his food ridden hands and began to wipe them on me. Quickly, my brown skirt became speckled with cereal bar and my shirt had large blue streaks on it. I tried to contain the mess, but he's 1-year-old and without a highchair or a wipe it was a disaster at best.
After chasing Froggy around and trying to keep the Jimmy Choo heels off of his little hands and apologizing for my child crawling everywhere and touching everything....I left.
I don't have couture clothing or expensive shoes. I don't have anything out of Vogue and I don't care for loads of accessories. But I have to admit, Froggy was the accessory to top them all...I don't give a damn if Gucci wasn't stamped on his ass.