I received the coveted The Jacket Writing Contest Award from Peg-o-leg yesterday afternoon. I was already late picking the kids up from school so I threw the box into my car and drove like a madwoman down the road (about three miles over the speed limit).
I parked and examined the box. It was very small–so small, I couldn’t believe the jacket was in there. What if it wasn’t? What if instead there was only a ransom note and I’d be forced to pay some large sum of money or the jacket gets it? I couldn’t wait to get home, so I tore the box open with my car keys and narrowly took off a thumb. I examined the plaid treasure and immediately smelled something strange. I had a flashback of me as a child in my grandmother’s attic, trying on her dusty old fox stole and daring my younger brother to eat a mothball.*
I noticed right away the jacket was indeed a show-stopper. The green, red and yellow stripes were so bright, I immediately got a migraine. The kind with the zigzag colored aura that looked remarkably like Peg’s jacket.
Still I was in love with it and all its funkiness. Funky in every sense of the word. I raced home to try it on. Then I turned around because I had forgotten to pick up the kids. So after I raced home again with kids in tow, I tried to try it on. Tried. I got one arm in and then—ugh…I couldn’t….quite….ugh….reach…. the other…arm. Why? Because apparently Peg neglected to mention the jacket was designed for a monkey. A tiny monkey. Size 8, according to the little microscopic tag. I don’t think I’ve been a size 8 since 1980.
After my daughter helped me wrestle it on (and I sucked in my gut and everything else), I buttoned it up and admired myself in the mirror. My son said, “Mom, why are you wearing that?” and walked off. My daughter looked at me, crinkled her nose and said, “Mommy, I was gonna try it on…but naw, you can have it, it’s okay.”
Here it is in all its glory. Who says stripes don’t go with plaid? You? Fine. Anyway, it looked snazzy enough, but I had to adjust the color a bit so I wouldn’t get another migraine…
So I’d like to take a moment to say, thank you Peg, thank you voters, thank you other nominees. I am truly honored to be wearing this jacket. I also want to thank (tearing up) God (sniffing and looking up at the ceiling with my hand on my heart) because I know that without His/Her help, (deep sigh) this award wouldn’t be possible (kissing two fingers and holding them up to the sky with a solemn look)
Next up: A vlog of me baton-twirling in the jacket (Be warned, there may be some splitting of fabric, picture the Hulk when he gets angry)
*I’m kidding, Peg. It doesn’t smell like mothballs or my grandmother. It smells like 1967– incense and peppermints with a little wacky weed thrown in. I love it (I do) and thank you. It’s giving me a goal of losing another 15 pounds so I can wear it and breathe at the same time.