one sad robe

Yes, robe. {As I typed that word I thought it looked so funny I had to second guess myself}. I don't know what it is about them but I just HATE robes!! I always have! It makes no sense. They are snuggly, warm, cozy, fluffy, soft ... should be a no brainer. But for some reason I have always had an aversion to them. Maybe I'm remembering my father's old 80's black and royal blue robe that looked like it was a second away from bursting into flames. Or maybe the classic cliche 'lady on the front stoop with rollers in her hair bending down to snatch the early morning newspaper' has turned me off. I don't know.
I've even received them as gifts a few times throughout my life but I just never took to them. WELL, recently - in early December to be exact - I bought myself a stinkin robe. I had this thought well, if I get up in the middle of the night to go upstairs to the baby's room it's chilly ... a robe would be warm and soft ... the baby wouldn't have zipper marks on her face from my hoodie, it has deep pockets so I could carry whatever junk was required at the time ... it seemed like at 34 years old maybe I was robe-ready.

Maybe not. 

The first lovely white garment (sick of saying ROBE) that I purchased was eleven sizes too big (thanks internet size chart). It had a hood - which I didn't quite understand and that hood stood up so high I looked like a friggin KKK member. The tie was halfway past my hips and the sleeves made me look like I was playing dress-up in mommy's closet again. Needless to say I returned it and bought another one (after trying it on whilst wearing a black shirt that was ultimately covered in white fleece balls for me to display throughout the rest of my shopping trip). I was amazed at the comfort. AMAZED. I thought Hot Damn!! I think I've turned a corner here! Yeah, no. When I got home I simply couldn't get past my reflection in our way-out-of-style and hopefully not completely accurate closet door mirror. I looked like Mt Everest. Only not so majestic. How was I going to prance around the house with this thing draped over me, hugging every curve and accentuating my snowman-like body. Ugh. Heidi Klum I am not. I couldn't casually glide through the living room in front of my husband in this thing. It's bad enough that I wear fleece pants with duckies all over them and a Walowizard t-shirt around the house. (In all fairness, my husband did buy me the t-shirt). I just couldn't accept that THIS was going to be the new me. I didn't care how chilly it was - I was only going to wear this robe when I was alone in the house. While Gregg was at work I was going to rock this effing robe all DAY!!! Yeah, no. I wore it like twice. Felt completely ridiculous in it. I hung it on the hook of the bathroom door and said goodbye. 

A couple of weeks went by and I felt bad for that robe. Hanging there all fluffy and sad. I got back on the horse and wore it a little here and a little there. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. I've had it on this afternoon for over an hour! I still despise my reflection while wearing it but I intend to get my $48 dollars out of it. Shit. My husband just pulled up... 

;o)