The first cold snap we had sent me searching to the back of the closet for my trusty flannel shirt that is my old friend. I love him, he became mine after a laundry accident rendered him useless to hubby. Shrunken from a large to a medium, he wasn't welcome on the other side of the closet. At first he felt hurt, unloved. His buddies, who he had hung out with laughed at him when they saw he was over on the "girl's side."
"Hey man, you looking kinda scrawny...did you fall into some hot water or somethin'?" Apparel can be so cruel!
He was ashamed to have lost his place on the rod with the big boys. No longer could he be considered one of the guys, pulled from the hanger on a regular basis...he was now looking at life from the gutter. Or at least that's what he thought.
The first time he went out with the Mrs. he got to see a different world. Up till then, he'd only seen the yard on days when Mr. raked leaves and ONCE he got to go to the hardware store. Living on the other side of the closet, he ran "errands." First the grocery store where he saw lots of other flannel shirts who smiled nicely at him and even a wink or two from some pink flannels that were hanging around the apple bin. Then onto the bookstore where he looked over the Mrs. shoulder at books about vacationing in far away lands. Finally they went through the drive through at Starbucks and the sweet girl at the window said "Where did you find that great shirt?" It made his day!
Since then, it's been a whirlwind of activity. He has became the Chosen One, the Mrs. wears him practically non-stop. He rarely gets a break, she wears him over a top when she's home. On cold days, he's invited on many trips to town. In and out of the washer, he barely gets hung up until he's going again. Now, on the rare occasions that he hangs across from his buds, he just smiles and tells them what he's been up to, they have a green with envy look on their plaid faces...