Million Dollar Bathrobe

I do about 40 things every morning before I get dressed.  Probably that is a bad habit that will bite me back one day.  At least that is what I think every time I drive my kids to school in my fuzzy purple bathrobe.  My bathrobe does double duty as a coat, house dress, and blanket.  Considering the utility of such a garment, I really should spend the money to get a good one.  The one I have needs another 10 inches of fabric in the front panel.  Then my chicken legs, stuffed into my snow boots wouldn't flash you when I get into my huge suburban each morning.  I watch for my neighbor to start his truck to warm up and go back into his house, then I race out in my fuzzy robe and start scraping the windows frantically on that big vehicle and pray he doesn't come back out until I have climbed into the seat of my charger.  May I never break down. May I never be stopped by a policeman.  I tell myself it wouldn't matter--I really no longer have any personal pride.

I guess I could get out of bed and actually get dressed, but my bathrobe seems such a comforting friend on chilly mornings.  I huddle wrapped in it for scriptures.  I pad down the halls to wake kids in it.  I cook and eat breakfast in it.  It really is almost as warm as a coat for my morning outings.  Sigh.  I do get a bit nervous if I have to answer the door in it.  It isn't attractive.  Another reason to consider replacing it with a million dollar version.

I used to drive my kids to an elementary school that was on a hill.  At the time I drove a tall van.  One morning, after dropping my kids off and turning around for home, I arrived at the crest of the hill when a dad in a sedan was driving up.  From my perch I could clearly see down into his car, where wrapped over an undershirt he was sporting his wife's silky turquoise, lace-trimmed bathrobe as he was driving kids to school.  I am not alone.  Not in this brave outerwear, or in the need to replace it!