No matter how many times I tell him he refuses to acknowledge that it’s not a dress or a cape. That’s right, I have a piece of clothing that Ricky can’t seem to wrap his mind around – or maybe he can – am I getting played by Ricky? Why I otta…
A few years back, I spent a few evenings at the Mandalay Bay Hotel in Las Vegas at a convention for the industry I’m in. While there, I found the “Hotel Robes” to be glorious. Big, white, fluffy, soft and warm – everything you’d want in a robe. So, I bought a few of them to bring home for my wife and I.
Have you ever bought something, and then forgot about it (since it was in the back of your closet) and then a few years later found it and were “all excited” about your new item? Me neither, but that’s what happened.
I re-discovered my robe once it started getting cold and now it’s “in my normal rotation.” But now every time I wear it, Ricky smiles and makes a silly comment.
Ricky: “Nice dress, Dad.” Dad: “It’s a robe, Ricky.” Ricky: “Hey, MOM, cool outfit.” Dad: “I’m Dad, and it’s a robe, Ricky.” Ricky: “Cool cape, Superhero.” Dad: “IT’S A ROBE. R-O-B-E, A ROBE.” Ricky: “O.K., Mom.” Dad: “Why I otta…”