The Things You Do For Love

Some time before college, probably around Christmas 1991, but possibly a year or two later, I got a pair of red plaid flannel pajama pants from my stepfather. These pants were very cozy, but so ugly that they were probably a contributing factor in why Mr. Scobie did not ever bust a move despite being my roommate for three years of our early adulthood. This summer, I finally threw them away, after many false starts (I actually rescued them from the trash and the fabric-for-quilts pile more than once). I got rid of them because they ripped, although that wasn't the deciding factor. I think I finally realized that I wanted Mr. Scobie to stick around longer than the pants, and was tired of hearing him ask that they be thrown away.

Well, Regret, thy name is the red plaid flannel pajama bottoms, because it is freakin' cold up in here.