Monogram Me

I've always thought the whole monogrammed apparel thing was a bit ridiculous. Unless you just LOVE your initials...no, it just doesn't make sense. Unless, of course, you're giving it as a gift, and then I suppose the receiver could feel somewhat flattered. But again, what's the point? Well, after all that, I think I know the perfect Christmas gift for Cole.



Cole is, after all, sort of "high society." He reaches for his robe (Grandma made him) first thing whenever I get him out of the tub. He likes to relax for awhile before getting dressed, sip some milk, admire the Christmas decor, etc. Well, who knew just how important his robe time was. On this particular morning, we had commitments, and I tried to go directly from bath to clothes. Here - see if you can tell how that went over:
You can see his clothes, there, on the floor. He hates his clothes. Robe! Robe!
I don't think he cried that hard when he touched my hot flat iron. So, after aggravating the situation further by taking pictures, I put his robe on and all was well. To anyone who loves to spend time in their robe like this boy, a monogrammed robe is just the thing.

Since deciding to post during the Crunchers' awake time, only minimum damages were reported: flour everywhere and a few Christmas decorations thrown off the piano. Since there was no broken glass, there were no time-outs. We just called it an even trade for allowing me a little blog time.