My BFF-est friend, K, lives in North Carolina. I, of course, live in San Francisco. We don’t see each other very often, but when we do, we are farting sunshine and lollipops. If we were lesbians, we would have been standing on the courthouse steps (in, evidently, any other state besides California) in fabulous matching Vera Wang dresses years ago.
She is the only person in the world that I can shop with and remain sane. We shop with one brain – a shopping Star Trek Borg, as it were. We enter a store, separate, comment occasionally as warranted, try on, critique, provide blessing on the other’s picks, and ultimately walk out with identical purchases.
A couple of years ago, K and her husband, B, adopted a beautiful boy from Guatemala, who I will call Derekjeter, because that is the name that I firmly believe B wanted before he was overruled by K. K and B also have a gorgeous puppy named Paris, who was an only child before Derekjeter arrived.
This is Paris.
Paris is looking very sheepish – not because she is pursued and loved on daily basis by a very energetic Derekjeter, and not because she is now second fiddle in the household…
But because K decided that it would be heeeeesterical to put Paris in a dog Snuggie for Christmas.
Paris, who was named after the most beautiful and fashionable city in the world and who is usually decked out in sparkly, shiny, designer collars – was, of course, mortified at this turn of events.
K says that Paris won’t wear her Snuggie anymore. Frankly, I can’t say I blame her. I’m sure she’s all like “Bitch, you’re not putting that shit on me again. Just wait…one day I’m gonna stuff YOU in a pink Snuggie. And I bet I could get Derekjeter to help me. He looked kinda pissed when you made him wear that gay J Crew polo shirt.”
My advice to K – next time bedazzle the Snuggie. Paris will love it. You should bedazzle Derekjeter’s polo shirts too. B will LOVE it.