Dear Adorable Ski Suit

I spotted you from across the store and everything else disappeared.
It was just you and me.
I dropped my purse and ran to you, cooing with delight over you, the words “you might have a snatched waist in that” echoing in my ears. I love the idea of a snatched waist, whatever that means, but I was more entranced by your ears.

Too impatient to drag you to a dressing room, I tore off my sparkle boots right there and put you on. Thank goodness for my circus acrobat background because after plunging in both legs, it took a lot of jumping, wiggling, and ducking to get my arms in.
Yes it occurred to me you were likely meant for a child, but since I share the same fashion tastes as most 3-year-old girls, I didn’t care.
Come hell or high water you would be mine.
I jostled both arms in and zipped you up, so far so good, but the piece de resistance was the hood with bunny ears.
As I slid the hood up over my head and the ears popped up, it was like a choir of angels hit a high note. Friends tried to talk to me, but their voices were far away and tinny.
I was in a new land, a land where I had bunny ears and people called me Cinnamon Bun…
Someone handed me the matching furry boots, and I tried to wrestle into them. We tussled, the boots and I, but they had an unfair advantage because I could barely move my arms (ala Ralph’s in the Christmas Story) but I finally won– and they were on my feet.
Ta-da!!
I wanted to bunny hop in circles of delight around the store, and I may have, I don’t remember, I was in a kind of amnesia -inducing-shopping-swoon-of-delight.
Sigh. Dream. Love.
Did I buy it?
Sadly no, I decided no matter how cute you are, if I can’t move certain body parts, like arms, while wearing you, then I can’t have you.
I reluctantly hung you back up and continued what Cristie called “the giddy portion of our shopping day” which involved trying on multiple furry coats with big sunglasses and taking on new characters with each one, from Jackie O. to Huggy Bear, all while laughing maniacally.

Upon leaving the store, I turned over my shoulder, gazing at you wistfully like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights while a montage of the memories we might have made together played in my head.

Farewell for now, bunny ski suit.

I’ll be back.

XO,

Marci