Look at that sweathshirt. Is there any article of clothing that could be more comfortable? More me? Yet it seems to be a real issue for some people who claim to love me. It was about this time two years ago when my grandpa started getting really sick. Yet, even on his death bed he managed to ask me, "Why the hell do you wear that old rag?"
And my best friend Kelly, well she has been trying to get rid of this sweatshirt for years. She was subtle about it at first. A few years ago, she bought me a new sweatshirt, an expensive baby blue Burton one. She would say things like, "Why aren't you wearing your new sweatshirt? It looks so good with your blond hair?" I almost fell for it.
At this point, Kelly is honest with her feelings. Last Saturday I reached for the sweatshirt to complete my evening attire and this is how the situation unfolded.
Kelly: Ah, NOOOOOO. Absolutely not. I'm not going anywhere with you in that.
Me: What's the problem?
Kelly: It's disgusting.
Me: Well, it's who I am.
Kelly: Well then be yourself when you are not around me.
She thinks she's funny, but her NEVER SUMMER SWEATSHIRT PREJUDICE only makes me want to wear it more. When she gets married some day, I will wear it with my maid of honor dress. I will even stick my thumbs through the holes in the sleeves.
