Taking off my bathrobe

So it’s about 1 AM and I’ve let the dogs out for the last time. I go upstairs and unzip my bathrobe preparatory to getting into bed. Only the zipper does that stupid thing where it starts coming apart at the bottom and you can’t pull the zipper all the way down. And the harder I tried, the more the bottom part came apart. I was now stuck in a bathrobe with a zipper stuck right around chest high. I couldn’t get my arms out to either pull it over my head or pull it down to get out of it. I danced around the bedroom cussing with every four letter word I know. The dogs sat on the bed looking at me as though they knew a call to mental health experts was soon going to be needed. Then I tried to calm down and take it one step at a time. I tried to be calm. I cajoled the zipper. I spoke sweetly to the bathrobe. And then I said screw it and pulled it up as hard as I could almost hoping it would rip. But it didn’t. Although my arms will never bend that way again, for the split second needed to get out of the bathrobe, they did.

This morning I woke up ready to throw the damn thing out, something my sister would praise because she thinks I look like an extra from Life of Brian when I wear it. But before tossing it, I decided to look at the zipper in the light of day and reason. And it took about thirty seconds to undo the zipper and have everything back to normal.

So how was your night?