When I was little my Dad and Stepmom took me to a festival where I had a purple and white unicorn painted on my face. In my memory it was beautifully painted, took forever and probably cost a fortune.
It didn’t take this lady very long to paint Baby Girl’s pony the other night (and it was just a few dollars). I wonder what the unicorn on my face looked like really? Our childhood memories often seem so different when we get a chance to view them again as adults.