The red carpet is traditionally reserved for an elite set— famous people, rich people, people with unusually large… sponsors.
But our friends Elizabeth and Michael rolled out a different red carpet when they threw their daughter Ruby a Red Carpet Birthday Party. It was a celebration of childhood, individuality and friendship.
The power of the red carpet was in the kids’ hands. Ruby made a walk of fame with stars for each of her friends.
As they arrived, paparazzi called their names as they walked down the red carpet.
This was the hardest part for me. I don’t like seeing them look so grown up. That 8-year-old is still a baby in my mind.
Now she’s a Jennifer Lawrence look-a-like. How did this happen?!
When everyone arrived, they created toilet paper fashion (which, not surprisingly, turned out better than much of the fashion we see on other red carpets).
With the big kids occupied, Smalls had full access to Ruby’s wardrobe trailer. Hey look! Elizabeth Taylor came to claim another award for Cleopatra!
There was this…
And there was this…
While the kids indulged in chocolate decadence inside, Michael was busy in the backyard getting the cement the perfect consistency for Chinese-theater-inspired handprints. Yes, they thought of everything.
Just yesterday I visited a one-day old Ruby-red baby in the hospital. I fumbled with an aspirator bulb, awestruck by our courageous new parent friends. Eighteen months later we had Pearl. Our girls have been best friends ever since.
I just want to press pause on this movie. Slo-mo. No grown-up clothes. Step away from them with that makeup brush. I want chocolate on their faces and scabs on their knees and playdoh in their fingernails. Forever.
I definitely don’t want this. What the hell is this?
Oh, it’s Martinelli’s sparkling apple juice. That’s fine. But slow down. We don’t need anyone hopped up on fructose before bedtime.
Or maybe we do.
