Why I Will Die Alone

My Favorite Christmas Present, aka The Husband Repellent

I've heard that the best present is one the recipient would never think of buying themselves.

This must be true. Because if I knew I wanted a blanket with sleeves, I would have just ordered it from an infomercial one Pinot-soaked night. But I didn't know--and believe me, I didn't WANT to know--that I was the sort of person who wanted a blanket with sleeves.

I'll just come out and say it.

I love my new Snuggie.

I scored it at a Yankee Swap. It was a gag gift. (The joke's on you, Auntie Barb. I'm keeping my Snuggie.)

In fact, I'm wearing it right now.

A bright purple Snuggie with matching slippers that makes me look like the lovechild of Bridget Jones on a bender and Barney.


"When I Grow Old, I Shall Wear Purple"

I've been wearing my Snuggie since Christmas. Coincidentally, I haven't seen my husband since. He disappeared the minute I first plunged my hands into these 100% polyester sleeves and velcroed myself in.

Since wearing my Snuggie, I've also developed an intense crush on Josh Grobin. I've switched to decaf and elastic waistbands. And I've taken to covering all surrounding objects--toilet seats, tissue boxes, armrests--in something crocheted and Pepto-Bismol pink.

Shit.

I am one "Murder She Wrote" away from owning a cat.

I am so ashamed.

And yet, sooo snug.