I must admit, Veggie, you are right.

I had a strange obsession with owning a snuggie. I love blankets, and I think, a blanket with sleeves, perfect! I'm not over the age of 65 yet so I will not be wearing the thing in public. Ever. People my age and younger do this, and as much as I thought this was going to be the coolest invention ever made, I do not think the snuggie look is stylin for the ages of 13-65. They should be forbidden public wear for those age groups.

So a week ago, I buy one. I go to CVS and bought the one that donates money to breast cancer research. That would be the only positive part of the Snuggie experience. It was bright cotton candy pink Snuggie with a pocket. I'm over the moon.

Until I get the fucker home and I realize something. Snuggies are not for short people. I am a short person. 5'3" and a clumsy mc'klutz even when I don't try to move with a 6 foot blanket in my path because I do forget to pick the fucker up. I'm glad that my superpower is that I do not trip. My elementary school was a combat zone. I had to train my brain to never trip. Not that the snotnosed fuckers wouldn't try. I'm clumsy, I drop shit and bump into shit, bump into people. I will never be comfortable in a china shop. But I do not trip.

After the age of 65, I'm going to aspire to the wear the most loud, ridiculous, bedazzled crazy cat lady clothes. Because if you live to be so old, you should be able to say and wear and do whatever the fuck you want. I don't think I'd ever be obnoxious to someone who isn't obnoxious to me, but after that age (except in extreme cases of pissing me off, then I'll let you know now) I will let you know exactly how much you suck as a human being.

The Snuggie has become my most expensive cat blanket. Jinxie loves it.



She loves Scott and will claim his lap when he gets home. But I've been going for walks lately, and Scott tells me that Jinxie will wait by the back door and cry the entire time I'm gone. We call her puppycat because she will follow me everywhere and she feels she must at least go into every room I'm in. I haven't been to the bathroom by myself in years. I have never had or met a cat that is so much a baby. And it's so funny. Every once in a while when I let her go outside with me (which isn't very often) and when she gets the urge to leave the yard (even rarer still), the timing of the cars around here is brilliant. Because she forgets that now when she goes into the backyard, she's going to see those big scary things that make big noise move, and she'll flatten on the ground, look back at me and cry, then when I'll pick her up she'll cling to my shoulder. She'll forget about being brave for while.

I'm convinced this cat is made entirely out of sunshine, cuddles, kisses and love.