Chatting on the phone with ONE last week, I mentioned that I was wearing a housecoat because I planned to write all day.
"Mother, do I need to call intervention?"
"Really, I'm up, dressed, hair fixed, but I just knew if I was fully dressed, I'd end up having to go somewhere."
"YOU own a HOUSECOAT?"
"No, it's more like a caftan."
"No, I mean it is a slinky little sexy long dress with slits at the calf."
"So, you're in your pajamas."
"No, I'm definitely not in pajamas! I'm wearing my boudoir attire."
After we hung up, I was glad I didn't mention that I had just snagged a cold drink form the icebox...I mean refrigerator.