Jacket

I bought a new jacket. I'ts a soft gray cotton in a flattering front zip style. I wore it last week for three days straight, including to bed one night after having cooked massive amounts of bacon for dinner. (It may sound gross to you, but I was sleep deprived, and the idea of waking up the the smell of bacon in the morning somehow at the time seemed appealing.)
I woke up the next morning smelling like I just came off a maple syrup bender from the IHOP. I immediately washed my jacket. Not wanting to wait forever for it's new found comfort, and in fear that I might continue to smell like Denny's at midnight, I threw on the sanitary cycle on my washing machine, and the hottest dryer setting soon afterward. Then I giddily put back on my new favorite jacket.

Wait, hold on, that can't be my jacket.

It most certainly did not fit like my new jacket. In fact, my rush to clean it resulted in me shrinking it two sizes smaller than it originally was intended to be.

Ahhhhhhh! Nooooooo!

My twelve year old came rushing to my side. Did she offer me words of comfort? Did she embrace my desire to wear it even though it fell just below my navel?

( I don't think I like the word navel.)

Here's what words of wisdom she uttered on my behalf:

Can I have it?

And so will always and forever be the tale of my three day love obsession with the high collar, big button, six pocket gray jacket.

And the day I remembered that you don't necessarily have to put every single think you wash in the dryer.

But I still will, because by golly it sure is convenient.