Member-only story
I Enjoy Robbing My Hubby “Sweatshirts.”
My husband's hoodies are fun for me to steal. Not just his coats, mind you. His sweaters, button-ups, and t-shirts are my favourite things to steal. Just as much as I like wearing his clothes, my husband likes seeing me in them. I'm only 5 feet tall, so wearing coats made for someone who is 6 feet 3 inches tall makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a blanket.
The dark grey sweater with his old college logo on the front is my favourite of his. It's worn and cracked from being washed so many times over the years. What makes me love that one so much? It's the one he wears the most. He started lighting incense in the man cave where he spends all of his time, so it always smells like his woody cologne.
My favourite sweater isn't quite right now, though. It's soft and smells like washing soap because my husband washed it the other day. There's another smell, though. A smell that I don't like as much.
Beginning to smell like the time I slipped and hurt my hands on the ground. Like when I cleaned some old jewellery. It's more like when I walked to the store with sweaty hands full of change.
Also, the colour is different. There is a small difference between the dark grey and rusty brown ends of the arms that I almost didn't notice. There are also a few small spots of the same brown colour on the front of the coat.
