One generation's legacy is more than enough

This morning, I threw on my swim coverup over my underwear after I got out of the shower. I knew I looked a little silly, but I had my reasons. We weren't leaving for the pool for a few hours, so it was silly to put on a swimsuit, yet it seemed equally foolish to put on an outfit I was only going to wear for a short period of time. So the coverup it was.

I breezed through my morning; feeding the kids and myself, checking my email as I sipped my coffee, redirecting my kids the couple of times their games went astray. I was in a pretty good mood, and eventually I realized that my high spirits might just have something to do with how comfortable I was. I should wear my swim coverup around the house in the mornings more often, I thought to myself. Hell, I should really even buy a few more. And then suddenly I froze as I recognized the truth.

I was, for all intents and purposes, wearing a housecoat.

Accepting my mother's legacy? That I can handle. But when I start to channel my grandmother, the queen of the housecoat? So. Very. Much. Not. OK.

I suppose technically, my shorts and t-shirt are slightly more constrictive than the swim coverup was. And yet, I feel so much more comfortable now. Let Nana find her comfort her way. I'll stick with mine, thank you very much.