Sizzle Says

I’m not really a robe person.

Some people like wearing them. I’ve just never been one of them. I’ve owned robes. Come to think of it, I’ve never actually purchased a robe for myself. Hmmm. Yes, my Mom has bought me every robe I have ever owned. It goes without saying, she’s a robe person.

Last week a package arrived at my work. I love getting mail so of course I was excited. I opened the box and found a pair of pajamas and a robe. The pajamas are a pale blue matching set. A far cry from the mismatched bottoms and tank tops I tend to wear. The robe is sweetly girly, cream colored with pale blue tiny polka dots. It’s light-weight and hits below the knee. Not one of those heavy terry cloth types or some long, silky types that go with sexy negligees. Of course, the package was from my Mom.

For some reason I felt compelled to put the robe on right then and there. At work around 2pm. Right over my work clothes. And then I walked around the office going about my work-related business in it. Some people did double takes. A few brave ones asked, “Um, are you wearing a robe?” Many commented on its cuteness. I wore it for a couple hours enjoying people’s reactions because seriously, sometimes work can be so utterly dull. And besides, I enjoy amusing myself.

Over the weekend, I put the robe on after showering. The Fella was over and apparently he likes the robe because, well, let’s just say it didn’t stay on for very long. Ahem! Now that’s the kind of robe action I like.

So this whole robe thing? I’m rethinking it. Maybe it just took the right robe.

Thanks for the pjs Mom!

“But as strong as I seem to think I am my distressing damsel,/She comes out at night when the moon’s filled up/and your eyes are bright, then I think I simply aught to/Fall over, fall over, fall overboard, overboard./Fall overboard just so you can catch me./You can catch me./I watch the ships go sailing by/I play the girl will you play the guy./And I never thought I’d be the type/to fall, to fall, to fall, to fall to fall. . .” -Overboard, Ingrid Michaelson