We Subletts are a diverse bunch. We’ve got loud ones and quiet ones, studious and silly, pro-Hannah and over-Hannah, country and rock…it’s a pretty mixed bag around here. One of the more interesting lines of demarcation to rise to the forefront lately has to do with winter wear.
If you see Josie outside some day, you won’t have any trouble recognizing her. She’ll be the one zipping along without a hat or gloves, and her jacket will probably be half-off her shoulders. She’s still wearing short-sleeved tees, and the moment she hits the front door her shoes and socks are off.
Annabelle is the polar opposite (see what I did there?) In fact, you might have passed Annabelle on the street and not even known it was her. She tries to cover every square inch of flesh against the raging, bitter winds. She’ll wrap a scarf all the way around her face 15 minutes before we leave the house. If we had a baby bunting that would fit her, I think she’d wear it. Most days I have to tell her to take her coat off in the afternoon when she comes home–we don’t really need coats in the house.
My discovery of the winter opens the door for debate: gloves vs mittens. For years, I’ve been a winter glove guy. I grabbed a pair of fleece gloves, and thought I’d arrived. They look good, they feel good…but one day this winter I noticed a pair of mittens that Ali Bruce (Bruuuuuuuuuce, what’s up?) gave Levi for a skit trip. They looked lonely, and a little intriguing. So I slipped them on, and WOW! These might be magical mittens, because the inside is so buttery soft, I found myself not wanting to take them off.
Another instant notice: my fingers stay warm. I lost the tip of a finger in a snowblower fight a couple of years ago, and that finger is always cold. I mean ALWAYS. But not when it’s nestled up next to its brothers inside my magic mittens.
I liked them so much that I asked for (and received!) a sweet mitteny gift for Christmas.
The only problem I have with the mitten move is that manual dexterity takes a hit. Try fishing your phone out of your front pocket whilst wearing mittens. Or changing your radio station. Tying your shoes? Forget it. Picking up that loose change on your floorboard for the parking meter? Not a chance. Answer that text? Yeah, maybe later.
There are a couple of work-arounds: using my nose to answer my phone (touchscreen touchdown!), asking a beloved family member to tie my shoes, and any rider is automatically expected to chip in for parking.
Of course, I can still shake hands, carry a backpack, open doors, bust out the lip balm, and jot a short note, all while my hands bask in the marvelous might of the mittens.
So what’s your take? Are mittens reserved for little kittens kids, or have you made the move to the magical mitteny wonderland?
I guess that about sums it up, don't it?
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