My family has been threatening me they would do it for quite some time. I begged them not to. It's a big step. It means accepting my age and/or taking up book reading as a hobby.
What am I talking about? Why the Snuggie I found gift wrapped on my bed when I came home today, of course. A bright red, flowing robe that stays open in the back but in the front has all the earmarks of Obie Won Kanobe, or a color-blind Franciscan friar. I was freaked out. Especially when they made me try it on.
In fact, I'm wearing it now. It's insidious, how the Snuggie makes itself at home on your body. One minute I'm crying about feeling like some old lady, and the next minute refusing to let the kids try it on. Hey, they know where they bought it. Let them get their own.
Truth is, I've really warmed up to the Snuggie. Hokey as the commercial is, it really works. Thanks kids, for thinking of mother. And special thanks to my husband, whose heavy hand I see in all this. No more walking around the house wrapped in pilloried old fleece blankets. I'll be cruising about in style.