Pandora's Box

On the way home from the bar last night, the weather had turned and sent a chill down my arms and back.

ME (while holding her arms tight against her body): I can't wait to get inside and put on my robe.

C: Ugh. That robe! You know, I've even talked to DW about that robe.

ME: What? Why would you tell our dog walker about my robe?

C: I told him, 'ME dresses so sexy all of the time, but then she comes home and puts on this hideous robe!'

ME: I mean, I know it's not the sexiest, but what have you got against my robe? Is it because it's made of fleece?

C (thinking): No, it's not the fleece.

ME: Is it because it's shapeless? [getting defensive] I love that robe! It's so cozy and it keeps me warm.

C: I think it's the texture. Yeah, the texture. And the colors!

The robe is very thick fleece in a tan and beige plaid. I would never have picked it out for myself. My grandmother bought it for my mother. My mother hated it, so I took it. Then, coincidentally, my aunt, without ever having seen the robe before, gave me slippers that matched perfectly (equally as comfy and lust-less). I don't think there is a chance I can give either up. Despite its lack of sexiness, C has rather passionate opinions about the robe. Maybe I can just redirect that passion a little. ;-)