Not that we need any more proof that the Westside is the Bestside or anything, but a creperie just opened a block from our house. A CREPERIE. I will admit that most of my crepe eating while living in Paris occurred at road stalls, where the crepe was wrapped in a piece of paper and you ate it on the go or sitting on a bench or the curb. But I did have my fair share of restaurant crepes, and this place by our house is fantastic. Amazing coffee, great crepes, and fantastic baked goods, all baked in house. I'm in heaven. As is Sean. So, every weekend day since it opened, we bundle ourselves and Lauren up and head to the creperie for coffee, breakfast, and newspaper reading. Heaven.
Above, Sean walks a bundled Lauren over to Summit Street.
Below, Lauren takes in some reading while she waits for her cappuccino. Decaf, of course. We're not bad parents.
After crepes and coffee, play time with Mom and Dad.
Back at the house post-crepes, Lauren sits off her food coma and watches Miller zoom by.
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