The one about my mother's winter coat

I'm basically one big, walking and talking fashion faux pas. I really don't care that much about what I'm using to cover up. I'm sure part of that stems from when I was young and imagined myself to be horribly fat, even though I was quite a normal sized kid. I was also quite the tomboy. My mother tried her damndest to dress me up all pretty, but she had little to no luck. Nowadays, she only manages to drag me on one shopping trip a year, right before Christmas.

It should come as no surprise that I don't have many clothes that my mother deems as worthy of being seen in public. I especially don't have any nice winter coats at my parents house, because although I do have one, I rarely bring it with me home for Christmas. I have limited suitcase space and I much prefer to bring my more serviceable Helly Hansen coat. It's doesn't look nice over a dress, but it's warmer, and I don't worry that much about getting it dirty.

Where I grew up, they host a Christmas dance every year on Christmas day (Norwegians have the fancy dinner and open presents on Christmas Eve...). In the past, it's been mostly for the 'older' people, like my parents and their friends. But the last few years, the young'ens have also started going, and this year was my second year attending. Last year, I didn't have my winter coat with me, so my mother gave me one of hers. I was at my heaviest at that time, but the coat fit, albeit quite snugly. This year I, once again, did not bring my winter coat home for Christmas. My mother gave me hers again, the same one that I wore last year.

It is now loose and comfortable to wear. Also, my mother has lost weight, and has decided that I can have it. Double score!