The Story of the Blue Puffy Coat

Check out my big blue puffy coat in these pictures:


Nice, huh? You'd probably think it's just an ordinary big blue puffy coat . . . but it goes deeper than that.

When I was 8 or so we had very little money but I was in need of a winter coat. My mother purchased for me a blue puffy coat. I think the insides were all down. I know that coat must have cost a pretty penny. The hope was that I would be able to wear it for a few years and that since it was filled with down it would keep me quite warm in the cold Pennsylvania winters.

But I hated that coat. I thought it was ugly. It wasn't like every one else's. It's not what I wanted. It would have to do, though (as my kids say these days - "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit). It was big and it was puffy. I seriously looked like the Michelin Man or the Marshmallow Man.



So, there I was in my big blue puffy coat. I do have to admit, though, it did keep me incredibly warm.

The day of Christmas vacation arrived. It was the last day of school for a full 2 weeks. I was on the school bus. I was wearing my big blue puffy coat. And I wasn't feeling so well. I was feeling like I might throw up. But I couldn't let that happen. Not on the bus. Not in front of everyone. I would never live it down. So I leaned my head against the seat in front of me and I began to pray. I seriously prayed that I wouldn't throw up on the bus. I felt every little bump and jolt - sending me into more fervent prayer until . . . at last . . . it was my turn to get off the bus. I moved slowly off the bus so as to not jar myself and puke all over the place. As soon as my feet touched the asphalt I knew that I couldn't hold back any longer.

I opened my coat, turned my head, and threw up inside my blue puffy coat that I was still wearing.

My sister, who rode the same bus, was there and I told her what had happened. Like any good big sister, she did what she could to help me. Her help consisted of zipping me up tighter into my coat - puke and all - so I wouldn't get cold. We walked the rest of the way home - all uphill and in the snow (true).

I don't know what happened to the coat after that. I don't know if my mother was able to wash the puke out of it. If she did, I'm sure it was never the same. Perhaps it lost some of its grand puffiness - a little humiliated at what I had done to it.

A few years ago as I was walking through the mall, I noticed a stand with various winter coats on them. And wouldn't you know it - one looked exactly like my big blue puffy coat of yore. There was only one left. I had been in the market for a new winter coat. But, should I dare get a big blue puffy coat? Why not? So, I bought it. And it's fabulously warm. When my mother saw my coat she asked why on earth I had purchased it especially since I put her through such grief as a child over that coat. I don't know really why I bought it. Maybe it reminded me of simpler times. Maybe it's because I knew that coat cost my parents a lot of money and I wanted to show them now that I was grateful for such a warm coat. Maybe I just wanted to feel little again - puke and all.