The Blue Hoodie

Having been with Jericho for more than three years, I am nearly tapped out on all my favorite anecdotes from my life. All of the important ones anyway. I know there are a few that are still locked in my memory but I intend to keep them that way. But for the most part, anything that is interesting and often not quite so interesting has been shared with Jericho. Luckily, most men don't always have the stellar memories that we women have, so I get to tell my stories multiple times and pretend like I'm telling it for the first time.

I like telling my stories and I like talking. I'm egotistical. So what? What blogger isn't marginally egotistical? Therefore, I'm going to start telling them here.

The other day, Jericho had a pseudo-intervention with me regarding a problem of mine. My hoodies. My hoodies occupy the majority of both of our door hooks. "Do you even wear all of these?" Well, no, but I can't just throw them out. He picked them up, one by one, and asked if I wanted to keep them. Ricks College- yes, it's nostalgic. White UNC- yes, it's my favorite. White UNC covered in stains- yes, good gym hoodie. He proceeded in this manner until we were able to wean away two hoodies. A small success for the declutterer that is my husband.

There is one hoodie that hangs on a different door. It is big and comfy and without a doubt the grossest article of clothing I own. The cuffs show the wear of a good dog chewing, and I've never owned a dog. It's blue, mostly. For more years than I can recall, it has been functioning as my "sleep hoodie". Meaning I wear it around the house, usually with my pajamas. Which means I often cook in it, usually without an apron. It really can't get much worse. True story, yesterday I was cutting a cabbage in half and the left sleeve got caught between the knife and cabbage. The slice in the cuff fits in well to its tattered state. 

The significance of this hoodie originated as much more than a sleep hoodie. I bought it from Gap in roughly the spring of 2000. I know this because I recall the very first time I wore it. I was at Ashley Henderson's house and we were working on our Laurel Project of decorating for a big church dance (yes, it turned out awesome). In my teenage years, I was always the girl running to catch up with everything- people, conversations, trends. In buying my first fashion hoodie, I was achieving something. I felt so at ease wearing my new hoodie that made me so cool.

By the time I arrived at my friend's house after school, the day had warmed up significantly. I went to remove the now unnecessary hoodie. Little did I know, the super cute blue hoodie had left its super cute blue ink all over the light shirt I was wearing underneath. Crap. My friend had air conditioning in the house. It shouldn't be too bad. I'll just roll up my sleeves if it's too warm. Later on, it was too warm. Cursing myself over my inner awkward struggle, I decided to push the sleeves up for some release, only to discover that the blue had also made a transfer to my skin. I was a smurf. My awkwardness doubled. It was fortunate that I knew this girl well or else I would have been mortified. I was blue. My shirt. My arms. My hands. Blue! I don't think she ever noticed because I spent the rest of the afternoon sweltering in my new hoodie, hiding my grossly deformed coloring.

As expected, Jericho has been told the story of the blue hoodie. If ever there is a time when I buy a new piece of clothing and immediately throw it in the wash and Jericho questions, I only have to say, "Blue hoodie!!" And the argument is over.