The Popcorn Shirt.

If you measure a holiday by gifts and flowers, then 2015 will go down as the okayest Valentine’s Day yet.

Robbie didn’t get me anything. No flowers, no card. I kind of pitched a fit at the end of the day and he managed to pull it together, but overall our day was really simple. This is fine with me — shhh, don’t tell my husband — because honestly I don’t recall last Valentine’s Day or any other ones before that. My life is essentially becoming one big blur.

However, I’ll remember this Valentine’s Day because it was the day that all 5 members of our household tried on the popcorn shirt and my husband let me take a picture of him in it to atone for his lack of romanticism on the Most Romantic Day of The Year.

What’s a popcorn shirt?

WELL. It’s a magical shirt that is elf-sized, but will stretch to fit almost anyone. My father-in-law won it in some kind of raffle and gave it to my mother-in-law, who in turn gave it to me. The extent of the shirt’s capabilities is impressive, and I’m not easily impressed.

So here’s how we spent the evening portion of our Valentine’s Day:

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Behold.

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Popcorn shirt on a 20-month-old.

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Popcorn shirt on a 3.5-year-old.

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Popcorn shirt on a 6.5-year-old.

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Popcorn shirt on an average-sized female.

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Popcorn shirt on a big-and-tall male.

This shirt will literally fit ANYONE. I have decided that I need a whole slew of teensy, stretchy articles of clothing that I can cram into a “go bag.” Isn’t that what the con artists and CIA people call them? Except mine would just be packed for a super-last-minute girl’s trip, and I could share my clothes with all my friends and people on the street.

Because they would fit.

Is everyone else having sex right now?!

DAMMIT.

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