This was Ellie’s outfit before Mommy’s ill-advised tiger’s blood shaved ice that I, for some ungodly reason, acquiesced to begging and put a small portion of into her own small styrofoam cup. She, of course, proceeded to eat the red dye-laden ball of icy sugar with her bare hands, staining her face, hands, and dress in the process. My feathers don’t get ruffled over things like that, though. It should come out in the wash and if it doesn’t, it’s a dress that she will only wear for a few months before outgrowing anyway. Don’t sweat the small stuff, right? With the 100 degree weather here in Houston, there’s enough to sweat about already.