Hello, I am out there - it is is 3.46am, wtf, and I have a train to catch in the morning - and you reminded me that I do not own a dressing gown. Well, I do, it is a crappy £6 creation from Primark that not only looks silly on me, but looks really silly on my gentleman friend, who occasionally uses it when it's the middle of the night and he's staying at mine. (He's six foot. The dressing gown is not. It's kind of obscene.)
So I decided just now to poke around, and I discovered in my cupboard a beautiful white cotton dressing gown, that was bought in Disneyland Paris in 1997 that I still haven't grown into. I'll look silly in it, he'll look silly in it, the problem is all solved.
...er, that was remarkably unecessary. Er, you did a good deed? I'll shut up now.
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So I decided just now to poke around, and I discovered in my cupboard a beautiful white cotton dressing gown, that was bought in Disneyland Paris in 1997 that I still haven't grown into. I'll look silly in it, he'll look silly in it, the problem is all solved.
...er, that was remarkably unecessary. Er, you did a good deed? I'll shut up now.