Every year, when the cool, Fall weather hits, our collection of blankets are reinstated to their official roles as keepers of the couch. I have way more blankets that any one person needs, but I’ve convinced myself that it’s a necessity of sorts. You see, each one has its own particular role. There’s the handmade, knitted afghan from Dan’s grandma, which has so much sentimental value. Then, there’s the fuzzy, blue UConn blanket that boasts my true Husky pride. I can’t forget the simple, gray fleece that has faithfully endured more movies with us than I could ever count. And, finally, there’s the magenta blanket that leaves magenta-colored fuzzes wherever it goes but has redeemed itself by matching our living room rug perfectly and being one of the softest surfaces you’ll ever touch. I’m always a little sad when summer rolls around and puts my blankets out of commission. They just make life seem a little cozier.
So, it's quite probable that I am, in fact, a blanket addict…but truth be told, I’m fine with that.