Many years ago, one of my girlfriends and I went shopping on Black Friday. This was back when people were still polite (if a little crazy) and we had the best time hunting for treasures together. At one of the stores we came across some robes for such a ridiculously cheap price that we were each forced to get one for our husbands. Little did I know what a horrible mistake this would turn out to be.
Much to my surprise, Shaun really liked his new robe. My girlfriend’s husband sensibly gave up his robe when it was worn. (which really didn’t take long for such a cheap thing) But not Shaun. He had fallen in love with the soft, fluffy fleece and took to wearing it constantly.
I have to admit that I did my best to make that horrible thing disappear as the years had not been kind to Shaun’s robe. It looked and felt like something that even a homeless lumberjack would shy away from.
At first I merely tried to replace it with all sort of much better robes, but nothing seemed to work. So I tried to get rid of it. Among other things, I attempted to leave it at the laundromat, to get a Mama cat to give birth on it, and to persuade some kid to haul it off somewhere…anywhere. I did my best to convince my Beloved that there simply wasn’t room for his precious robe to accompany us on our move here to Washington. Somehow…he managed to dig it out of the garbage and find a spot for it.
I finally accepted the fact that I was going to see that horrid robe every night and every morning for the rest of my life. That was before Shaun’s allergies set in. I refuse to go into details, but those rough months of sneezing and dripping noses that plague allergy sufferers everywhere are how the Booger Robe got it’s name. You can go ahead and use your imagination while I just continue to block those images out of my head. (In case you haven’t figured it out, I have major mucus issues.)
If there was ever a reason for me to leave this man, the Booger Robe would have been it. I don’t think there could be a judge or a jury in the world that would have found me guilty of whatever crime I could have committed against him and that robe. Lucky for Shaun, I am not a weak woman.
Last Christmas, while I was shopping for something completely different, I happened to glance across the room and spied a rack of soft, fleece robes. I wanted to bury myself in them because they felt so good. Crossing my fingers, I bought one to give Shaun as a gift. To my joy, he loved it! Yay!
I hereby vow that I will never again impulsively buy something for someone just because it’s cheap and I’m desperate. Some things just have to be learned the hard way…