Roadkill
OK, so I might have had a slight lapse in good judgment, but is was such a good deal I couldn’t help myself.
No, this is not a wookie, although my sister had her daughter wear it like she was straight out of Star Wars. It is, in fact, a raccoon fur coat that I got at thrift store. I thought it was very cool at the time. Being that I am only 5 foot 3 inches I have to admit that the coat is sort of over whelming on my body. Not as bad as in this photo of little T, but probably closer than I would like to think it is. So, there it was hanging in my closet when Jilly walks in and takes a look at it and shrieks in horror. “What is that?” she yells. “It’s my new coat” I replied proudly. “And what is it, or what was it is a better question” she asks, with her squinting little probing eyes. “Hey, I didn’t actually kill it with my bare hands sweetheart, I got it at a thrift store and it is raccoon and for all I know it was killed in a roadway accident”. I thought that would defray some of her animal right’s activism attitude. I thought wrong. “You better not wear that out in public ever and especially if you are with me, do you understand me. That is just so wrong.”
Yikes, she kind of scared me. And then she turned around and pointed her finger at me and said ” Somebody ought to peetah your ass”. My look of confusion followed by my “huh” just disgusted her and she repeated herself “peetah, you know P.E.T.A. , what kind of mother are you?” she yelled. Well, dawling, the kind that likes to be wrapped up in furs while she is grounding your ass for cursing.
I am going to lock up my closet from now on. Hate to hear what she would say about the mink!
Faux Farm Girl, wrapped in fur.
Annie