Maybe it’s the waning influence that I have during a child’s 18th year, but it feels like I am welcomed into a pretty exclusive club when I am asked to help with a dance invitation.
Paints, brushes, adhesives, poster board, and markers covered our kitchen surfaces on Friday afternoon and late into the evening. It’s an “Up” themed invitation, and Mark painted a little birdhouse in all the pastels from the movie.
We delivered the invitation late at night, as one does. I have become a slick getaway driver.