This morning as my wife is hydrating in advance of her flight to Amsterdam [quick over&back for a conference; the kid and I are staying put], she took town this little pot of Crema Neige emmollient by Santa Maria Novella.
The batch number is written by hand in that kind of euroscript where the 1's look like 7's, and the 9's look like g's, you know the one I'm talking about? And the kid goes, "Hey, that's mine."
Wife, stalling: "Is it?"
Kid: "Well, it looks like mine."
Wife: "Where did you get one like this?"
Kid: "Aunt Shara gave it to me. I think that one is mine."
Of course, the kid's right. Her aunt's an aesthete of very refined sensibilities, but also a writer. So she'll walk 40 blocks instead of taking the subway, but she'll also track down just the right artisanally made jojoba and beeswax creme from Florence formulated to protect sensitive, children's skin from undue exposure to the elements.
At $104/100ml, I heartily endorse the wife's giftpoaching. Meanwhile, the kid's got a memory like a steel trap. [lafcony.com]
