There's only one shirt i think of when i think of Christmas and red flannel. My freshman year of college, i had an excess of scholarship awarded, meaning i got a bookstore credit for more than my books cost and a check (eventually) for what wasn't spent there. Not having other income, i bought Christmas gifts for my family that year at the bookstore.

I found the perfect shirt for my dad. It was red and black (checkerboarded) flannel. Due to a bizarre childhood accident with a coca-cola machine, one of my dad's arms is shorter than the other, and he sometimes has trouble with shirt-sleeve cuffs. This shirt didn't have cuffs, so it could be easily altered. Perfect gift, right? Well, being the good son i am, i tried on the shirt, and decided to keep it.

The first time my dad saw me in it, he said he liked it, said he wouldn't mind having one like it. Doh! So red flannel at Christmas still makes me feel a tiny bit guilty.

Mi "Not TOO guilty, though. It's still the most comfortable shirt i've ever owned, and i've worn it until it's practically threadbare." ke