I'd meant to post about this since Christmas, when Lufthansa's luggage-losing shenanigans forced us to rebuy the kids' entire suitcases in France. But the wife just got back from a work trip to Spain, where she picked up some stuff for the kids at Okaidi, the sassy corporate cousin Serena to Jacadi's prim Samantha.
Even if the euro itself collapses under the weight of Greek and Portuguese and whoever else's profligate sovereign debts, I really hope the European Union's glorious tradition of requiring five-page, seventeen-language labels be sewn into each item of children's clothing will live on forever.
