Everything is better in Marchesa…

I received a notecard from my daughter’s plastic surgeon today.  No, I have not gotten her boobs (yet) but she did have a little mishap last year where she was seen by a plastic surgeon who to this day, has not forgotten her.
Last year I was getting my girls ready for a communion lunch and had already set out their Marchesa by Target dresses.  I told my daughters to go into their bedroom and get their underwear and socks on, this obviously translated into, jump on the bed butt nekkid (obviously).  I heard a loud thump and when I got to the bedroom, I saw my 5 year old with blood running down her chest.  I panicked and thought she was dying.  My husband then threw her dress on and rushed her to the ER where she was seen by a plastic surgeon for stitches.  My daughter did not want to remove her dress for surgery because she didn’t like the smocks the hospital provided her with and was walked into the operating room in Marchesa.  The surgeon said that in all his years of being a surgeon, he had never worked on such a great and stylish patient.  I owe it all to a girl feeling good in a dress.  If a girl is confident in herself, she can take over the world or have her lip sewn back together, either way, she did it all in Marchesa.

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