A birthday story.

I am handed a box to unwrap on Saturday evening. It is from my son. My husband, son and MIL are all watching me intently, waiting. It is obvious it is clothing of some kind by the shape of the box. I open it, half-expecting something from Anthro since recently my son told me I should be an Anthropologie tester when I grow up.

It is an Ann Taylor box I see though.
And inside that box?

The most perfect little black dress that ever lived.

The story according to Jeff -- weeks ago our son told him he wanted to get Mama a pretty dress for her birthday. So they hit the mall and went to Ann Taylor first. This little black dress was spied right away but Jeff encouraged him to see a few more stores to be sure. He obligingly looked but returned to Ann Taylor. Apparently he received stellar customer service and a full tour of all the dresses, but confidently he chose the original one he spied.

I cannot tell you what this dress means to me, but I'm guessing you can imagine. I will keep this dress as long as I live and feel like Audrey Hepburn every time I am lucky enough to wear it out somewhere fancy.