ensconced in velvet

Last Saturday evening, I was at the University Mall, on the phone with Monica. I fell into the Gap to see if any of the kids' uniform clothing might be on sale, and wandered over to the GapBody section of the store.

There it was.

The robe I've been coveting for atleast two Christmases (reflecting the true spirit of the holidays). I didn't know that it's called the Sherpa Robe. But I love it. "Monica!" -and I'm sure that I interrupted her, as I'm apt to do- "The robe I love! It's on SALE!!!"

Monica laughed and said, "Well, then, you HAVE to get it."

"I know. And I will. It's such a great deal!"

Then Monica said something about me definitely being my brother's sister. James and I subscribe to the idea that if something is on sale, it's worth buying. BECAUSE IT'S ON SALE!!! It won't be on sale forever, will it? And once it's on sale, other people will buy it and then they'll be all gone. You'd better get yours now before it's too late. It makes perfect sense.

Monica and Darin, however, know better. Do you NEED it? Can you AFFORD it? These details are trivial to the likes of Noonans (or used-to-be Noonans).

I've been wanting a robe for awhile now. My daily schedule affords that I shower after li'l ~j. has left for school and Darin has left for work, leaving Curly & Superstar to be babysat by The Backyardigans while I conduct my daily regimen: shower, paint my face, and dress. This ritual takes me, on average, at least thirty-five minutes, but after the shower stage, I need to run downstairs to make sure that no one is bleeding or sitting on anyone else's head. I don't like to do this in a towel because some of my blinds may be open and NO ONE, not even me, wants to see me in just a towel.

So I bought the robe. I went home, washed my face, got ready for bed and put it on. It's heaven. I went downstairs and Darin looked at me questioningly: "What's that?"

I smiled, "Merry Christmas to me from you!"

I've slept with it (not in it, but used it as a blanket) every night since then. It's unbelievably soft. I'm tempted to just stay in it all day, but that's not very professional, now, is it? Plus, if I wear it too much, I might start to let myself go and turn into that character played by Cheri Oteri on SNL (the old neighbor that yells at the kids, not the french whore). But that might not be too far off for me, because yesterday I bought the matching slippers.

What? I had a coupon.