It's Me, Sara Louise

The Husband’s childhood sweetheart, The Croupier, turned 30 on Saturday and Le Petit Village’s town hall was filled with balloons, banners, friends, and family all for her.

In France, celebrations tend to run late in the night. Like L A T E. As in the cake comes out after midnight, and in this case, 2a.m. So after I stuffed myself full of birthday macarons, I called it a night and crawled into bed at 3a.m., plenty late for me, but that meant I missed the 3:30a.m. arrival of Brother-in-Law and Child Bride (there needs to be a new term for fashionably late, maybe we’ll call that, unfashionably late). The Husband made it home a little after 5a.m. which didn’t bode too well for Easter lunch the next day but that’s a story for another time.

Back to the party.

The birthday girl was surprised by a flash mob that we performed to ♫ Party Rock is in the House Tonight ♫.

{everybody just have a good time}

{shake that}

But The Croupier couldn’t stand to be left out and jumped on the dance floor to join in on the fun (that’s her on the left). You know, because everyday she’s shuffling (that’s funny on so many levels).

bisou