Mother Daughter Tea {or Mama Punch, your choice}

‘Tis the season for traditions, tights, cookies, red hair bows and parties.  All of those things were rolled into one yesterday at an annual Mother Daughter Christmas tea. We’ve been guest at our dear friends’ party for years now. Britton might have been about two years old at the first Christmas tea. I can remember arriving with my girls in their matching smocked Christmas dresses (pressed, of course) and leave clutching the hands of two sugar-crashed kids with green cupcake smeared all down their dress, tousled hair, a missing Mary Jane and then there was the sweat that was running down my back from chasing my young girls around for an hour.

My how times have changed. Now we arrive (having dressed ourselves) going our separate ways to visit with friends only to convene by the door two hours later when it’s time to leave- clean clothes and smiles we take with us.

Sorry Raynes, but this one is girls only.

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