I haven’t figured it out yet – how to live my life within the realm of the Slanket I received for Christmas.
For those of you not up on the latest comfort and warmth products, the Slanket is a superb, extra thick and soft fleece blanket of gargantuan proportions. It could probably cover AndrÃ© the Giant comfortably if he weren’t already dead. No doubt it would provide even better coverage now, but I doubt he would derive much comfort or warmth from it being deceased.
But wait. It’s not just any oversized blanket. The best feature of the Slanket is the pair of large sleeves at the top end. (Or if you turn the Slanket upside down, the sleeves become pant legs. I haven’t actually used it like this yet.) If you wrap up in it with the opening in the front, holding your arms straight out in front of you with the generous sleeves draping gracefully down from your wrists and pull the excess at the top over your head to form a kind of cowl, others might think you are a double for the Emperor from the Star Wars movies, a Dementor from the Harry Potter books, a monk, or some such creepy or spiritual character.
One evening I fell asleep in my Slanket on the couch and awoke in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. Because I am someone whose feet temperature never rises above freezing in the winter, that is saying something.
I love my Slanket. It is my friend. I read in my Slanket, watch movies in my Slanket, talk on the phone in my Slanket, and surf the web in my Slanket. The only problem is, I haven’t figured out how to perform any physical activities in the Slanket, such as cooking, doing the dishes (the sleeves get soaked), driving, or cleaning. Also, I am fairly certain that my boss would frown upon my coming to work in the Slanket even though my children have assured me that it looks entirely professional.
Undoubtedly the answer is to quit my job and refuse to do anymore chores so that I never have to leave my Slanket World. I think that this is the most responsible stewardship of this great gift that has been entrusted to my care. Don’t you?