I have a pink sweater. It was a present for my birthday. It happens to be the softest sweater ever made. Turtleneck, long bell bottom sleeves, the bottom cuts right across my hips. The sleeves are a little long for me, but it's like a cuddle sweater I used to wear with (gasp) leggings in front of the fireplace in winter when I was little. All in all the perfect article of clothes for me.
My luck began the first time I put it on. At my early birthday party a few days after Thanksgiving. I bowled well for starters. But that could have been a fluke. Later that evening, Grant hugged me goodbye. Then hugged me again. And a third time. "Man, that is the softest sweater ever. I'm going to just take it with me."
Tuesday I wore it again to kareoke. A total stranger came up and asked if I would dance with him. I did.
I've worn the sweater several times since then, and each time something like this has happened. So, I'm going to start a chronicle of the Luck of the Pink Sweater. Starting tonight. Because I'm not feeling well, and my pink sweater is just the thing.