Now that autumn has firmly ensconced itself around our lives, I can’t help but feel that I is taking itself way too seriously. I mean, autumn used to mean a lovely time with some warm days and some cool ones, with occasional showers. It was a time to gather the leaves that gently fall to the ground where you live, to pile them for the kids to run through, or if you have dogs, let them tear through them…. just enough, mind you. Enough so that you don’t have to rake them up again as much. Autumn was our time of transition from balmy weather to the miserable cold winter which we as Canadians trudge through yearly, hoping that one day we may move to warmer climes and make our years that much more bearable.
It would appear, however, that this is no longer the case. No, good old autumn has decided to become a doofus. It has decided that we as Canadians have been spoiled enough, thank you very much, and has begun throwing snow about willy-nilly, hither and yon.
With all this bad weather, unseasonable temperatures, and unpredictability, something has to give. We can’t go on and pretend that everything is ‘okay’, as if all this is just a little hiccup that will correct itself eventually, and reward us for our patience. No…that just won’t happen. It is time to be proactive.
And so, being as I am not getting any younger, and that the cold temperatures are less and less palatable to yours truly, I recently had an epiphany: if the cold won’t go away, maybe I can do something for myself that will assist me in at least withstanding the cold. It had to be something that wouldn’t cost a fortune, like turning the heat way up, or moving Canada further south. I did the one thing any sane man in my position could do….
I bought a onesie.
It is quite safe to say that it has been quite a while since I wore a onesie. I am now almost 51 years old, and I do believe I was still in diapers when I last wore one. When I did, the onesies were simple garments, made to be practical and affordable, hardly a fashion statement. For both fortunate and not so fortunate reasons, they have become much more than that this year. It would seem that everywhere you go there are onesies of all kinds for sale.
Okay, so I didn’t just buy a onesie. I bought several onesies. And because I am impulsive, I did this without consulting my most important critic: my wife Anne. Some might say that his is a risky move. Some might also say that this is foolhardy. Well, I like to live my life on the edge at times. And believe me, this was pushing the envelope.
As is always the case, one must wear something for the very first time. Of course, that said, this item is thankfully something that one is not compelled to wear in public. Which is a good thing, because judging from Anne’s initial reaction, the public is certainly not equipped to handle my ‘fashion faux-pas’.
‘Anne’s initial reaction’. Just saying that gives me shivers. Imagine, if you will, walking in one your significant other, expecting the ‘same old-same old’ and seeing him/her dressed in baby clothes. I hadn’t thought this out, evidently. I thought I would be cue, perhaps fetching, and most definitely sexy.
Nope.
My camouflage onesie was the first. I also wore one with Schnauzers on it. Then one with plaid. Then another that I can only describe as a 3-D rendering of a shark making love to a loaf of bread. It was like a batter going to bat and striking out time after time. Nevertheless, the one thing I wasn’t expecting was their compelling warmth and comfort. A great equalizer in my eyes. But not in Anne’s. Even my dogs were shocked.
Well, they’re all going to have to get used to it. My onesies are here to stay. I am even writing this column wearing my newest one. I will do my best to convert my loved ones over to the Dark Side. I’m sure that once they do, our family will be a onesie foursome!
Bill's Musings 