This is Hot Chocolate:

I love Hot Chocolate. I worship Hot Chocolate. I wear Hot Chocolate every single day.

I wear it with a yellow shirt, blue sweatpants and socks. I wear it with a striped shirt, old jeans and slippers. I wear it with pajamas. I wear it with work-out clothes. I wear it with a lot of style and a lot of odd charm.

Some days Hot Chocolate is belted with a plaid scarf. Some days Hot Chocolate has bits of popcorn stuck to it. Most days Hot Chocolate smells like string cheese and $8 chardonnay.

Hot Chocolate is what Mr. Rogers would wear if he were a 40-year-old crabby woman with thin skin and an inefficiently heated house.

But while I never, ever take Hot Chocolate off when I’m home, tragically, Hot Chocolate doesn’t ever go outside with me. It doesn’t get to grocery shop. It doesn’t get to go to the spa. It doesn’t even get to sit at a PTA meeting and point out all the women who need their upper lips waxed. This makes Hot Chocolate very sad.

The reason Hot Chocolate doesn’t ever go anywhere is because my husband considers it to be my “secret shame.” He does not love Hot Chocolate. He does not worship Hot Chocolate. In fact, he doesn’t even call it by its real name. Rather, he instead chooses to call my gorgeous brown sweater creation:

- That Ugly Brown Thing

- The Dead Bear Suit

- Robin Williams’ Wardrobe From The Fisher King

- Something a Shaved Monkey Would Wear At the L’Oreal Test Laboratory

- Knitted Birth Control

But while Hot Chocolate may have haters, I still know we’re meant to be. You see, most people don’t understand the allure of a four foot long ratty sweater bought three years ago from the 75% off rack at Macy’s. Most people don’t want to dress like a molting Yeti. Most people don’t want to repulse their husband on a daily basis. But that’s okay because I do. True love is always hard to understand.

So for now, Hot Chocolate and I will just remain hidden indoors. We will sleep together, we will eat together, we will sprawl on the couch and take shots of discount tequila every time someone from NBC says something completely asinine during the Olympic coverage—together. Because I love my beautiful sweater, and I will never, ever stop wearing Hot Chocolate.

At least until March when all the cute spring tops come out.

_____________________________________________________

If you’re a member of BlogHer, Aunt Becky, Marinka, Kelcey and I (of The Mouthy Housewives and Mommy Wants Vodka) have put in for a Room of our Own on how to create a successful, entertaining advice site.

So please just click here, log on to BlogHer and then click “I would attend this session” (it’s just above the title: Dear Abby 2.0). After you click it it will miraculously say “I would not attend this session.” This means that your vote for the session has been successfully registered. Thank you!