My Mittens
On Monday afternoon, after days of near frost-bitten fingertips from waiting on the freezing train platform every morning, I went out at lunch time and bought the absolute greatest pair of mittens ever created. I’ve never owned mittens that kept my hands so warm and cozy – it was as though they had been woven by magical heat fairies from the land of Thinsulatia. Sure, they transformed my hands into useless stumps, but they were warm useless stumps. And not only did I snag the last pair, but when I went to pay for them, I found out they were on sale for only $15!
On Thursday evening, I left them in a cab.
I almost collapsed when I realized what had happened. I was in a state of shock and disbelief. Eighty hours. I owned these mittens for eighty hours. I turned to my close friends for comfort, and they tried to make me feel better by telling me things like, “It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all” and “They’re in a better place now” and “Think of it this way – they only cost you $0.19 per hour” and “The stars that shine the brightest burn the fastest,” and “It was a pair of frickin’ mittens – get over it you big crybaby sissyface. I mean, Christ, some people have no hands and you’re complaining about some stupid discount mittens?! You make me sick.”
And I know they all mean well, but I guess what hurts the most is the not knowing. We might have had something special, those little grey mittens and me. Might have been real special.
Filed under: General on December 11th, 2006
December 10th, 2006 at 12:28 pm
Maybe someday, in a cafe in Paris or a club in Amsterdam, you and your mittens will meet again. And think of the amazing tales they’ll have to tell when that happens.
Or maybe you’ll just buy more mittens and suck it up, buttercup. You just never know.
December 10th, 2006 at 12:35 pm
I understand — from personal experience — how one can become attached to articles of clothing. But, did anyone tell you to ‘get a life’? That’s what they always tell me…
December 10th, 2006 at 12:35 pm
Funny, I found a GREAT pair of mittens in a cab last week. I’ll tell ‘em you send your best.
December 10th, 2006 at 1:19 pm
When I was in the third grade I lost my tiger puppet in a dirt pile, so I know how you feel, except for you’re grown up and not a sensitive little kid still trying to learn how the world works, and they were mittens, not really tiger puppets, and your mittens probably didn’t talk to you. But, anyway, really, sorry about the mittens.
December 10th, 2006 at 1:44 pm
Maybe someone who was truly desperate for them found them.
December 10th, 2006 at 9:08 pm
Linking to you from Dave (Blogography) to give my condolences for your loss.
December 10th, 2006 at 9:40 pm
Tracy Lynn: Amsterdam? Wow – to think… they could be warming the hands of some dutch whore right now. That makes me happy.
Rhea: No, but they did say that when I started whittling and building dioramas.
Chase: Chaaaaaaase!!!!! Give me back my mittens!!!
Roy: First of all, a dirt pile? Really? And I suppose you had to eat shoe leather for dinner and wear paper bags for trousers, too. But secondly, these mittens were very much like puppets, because they were so thick that the only mobility they left me was a variation on the sock puppet talking motion. I’m sorry about your tiger, though.
Jessica: Or maybe that cab driver sold them on craigslist for like, $1,000!
nancycle: Thank you for the kind words in this, my hour of need.
December 10th, 2006 at 10:07 pm
I’m making a sympathetic “ughhhh” sound and remembering the only perfectly comfortable headband I have ever owned in my life that kept my hair really super tightly held back and did not dig into my skull…that may still be riding the brown line to this day.
December 10th, 2006 at 10:56 pm
The healthiest way to look at it, is to think that you probably weren’t really right for each other after all. After the honeymoon phase, you would have started noticing how the thread was poking out on the inside and making you itch and how the fabric on the tips of your fingers was starting to thin out and get less and less attractive. Honestly, I think your friends were right. You’re better off without them.
December 10th, 2006 at 11:05 pm
Huh. Interestingly enough, I had a woman jump into my cab a few nights ago that was wearing nothing BUT a pair of very strategically placed mittens. Want to confess to THAT one?!! :o)
December 11th, 2006 at 7:37 am
Oh, I feel your pain, Jenny.
When I was 8, I got a pair of Battlestar Galactica sneakers. First day out with them, I was walking along a stream bank and stepped on some mud… and promptly went up to my crotch in mud. Two friends and one parent pulling on me got me out of the mud.
Minus ONE BATTLESTAR GALACTICA SNEAKER.
So, yes. I feel your pain.
December 11th, 2006 at 8:08 am
sarah: Hmm… the perfect headband? somewhere on the brown line, you say? [grabs CTA pass and runs out the door]
churlita: I suppose you’re right – this way, I can preserve the memory of my mittens in all their glory.
Michelle: Yikes! Well, since I never leave home w/o at least 4 layers of clothing, it most certainly wasn’t me… but were the mittens grey and warm looking?
sween: Wow – dirt piles, mud pits – you guys lived in some treacherous territory. And how utterly tragic to just have that one shoe as a bitter reminder of what you once loved.
December 11th, 2006 at 8:23 am
I hate that! I lost an umbrella in a cab once, so not cool..it was a great umbrella!
December 11th, 2006 at 9:35 am
Heh-heh, come here little Jenny, I’ll keep your cold stumps warm.
Whatever the hell that means.
December 11th, 2006 at 10:24 am
Or, be like me, move to a place where you seldom need mittens.
Of course you lose all the culture and excitement of Chicago, but really who needs a life?
December 11th, 2006 at 11:17 am
Last year I bought this really great North Face sock cap to take to England. It was pink and the kind of warm you feel when you walk into Starbucks after being whipped around in the wind. There was a soccer team from Spain in my hostel and they were drunk and loud and obnoxious in the middle of the night. A shy little guy from Poland, Marten, got up and told them to shut up in hell, couldn’t they see I was sleeping? The next day I left for Scotland, and gave Marten, who was on a strict budget and had very cold ears, my sock cap. My ears were cold on that trip, but my heart was warm, thinking of Marten walking around London with my pink hat on his head.
Gosh, I hope he didn’t get his ass kicked on my hat’s account.
December 11th, 2006 at 5:36 pm
Next time you find excellent warm mittens, and though you probably don’t believe you will ever love that way again right now, there WILL be a next time… let me know before you wear them in public. I’ll send you a mitty-leash like we use for Carter. Keeps your mitts connected to your coat sleeves even if you take them off. I can’t stand to see you heartbroken like this again.
December 13th, 2006 at 7:22 pm
wear paper bags for trousers
Huh? That’s just weird.
December 15th, 2006 at 2:44 pm
Oog, that was big comment spam. I’m thinking Sarah shouldn’t have said “riding the brown line”.
Anyway (sorry about that) thank you for opening up about your loss. I have now posted my own similar, if not more tragic, tale.
December 15th, 2006 at 3:12 pm
Tobi: Umbrellas are notorious for abandonning their owners.
peefer: Oh, I think we both know exactly what that means. Wait… do you mean what I think you mean?
Alice-Anne: Oh, but I love winter clothes! I just can’t hang onto them for very long.
heather anne: Well, even if he did, he looked damn cool while getting his ass kicked.
shari: You jest, but my mother is also notorious for losing mittens, and she seriously contemplated the mitten string solution!
roy: Don’t tell me – you’re the one wearing them!
Don: Spam has been deleted – I’m being bombarded lately! I’m glad my tale of woe made you feel you could open up about yours. So sorry about your loss.