I've mentioned before that Dan is maybe, just maybe, ever-so-slightly, a little tiny bit of a pansy when it comes to cold weather.  That's not a knock, just his personal preference, and he'd tell you himself.  Dan would like to live on the equator; the absence of seasons wouldn't bother him a bit. It's kind of cute because it's so him. (It only ceases being cute sometime in mid-February if he's still grumbling about the dark/cold EVERY SINGLE DAY.  At which point he moves from self-expression to blatantly raining on my snuggly, cozy, snowy, winter-white parade.)

Well last week it was actually really cold here.  Dan was miserable, but I couldn't hold it against him; it was totally fair.  It was cold enough that I wore my big coat and a scarf /gloves/hat when I went to the store.  Somewhere in the neighborhood of 17 degrees - but felt like 6° according to the weather man.  So...if I was wearing  scarf/gloves/hat, what then, did Dan choose?


This is no ordinary coat.  It is a specialty item that Dan received as a gift when he was moving from Georgia to the mountains of Virginia for college.  It is large enough and insulated enough that you could survive an Alaskan blizzard in it - forget that "climbing inside a caribou carcass" tip.  Have you heard that?  Another story for another day.

So Dan has this enormous, totally ridiculous coat that he put on last week to walk from our house to his office at the church.  The distance from our door to his door is MAYBE 30 yards.  You could jog it in four seconds flat.

I'm saying all this to share with you my precious, hilarious daughter who had me in stitches when she looked up at Dan standing in the foyer in his enormous, comical coat, puzzled, and asked,

"...Daddy...What are you dressed up as?"

Holy smokes, I love them.