Thanks bizi! I feel very pleased with how well things are going.

Awww thanks Di, that was so sweet of you to post, thank you. I am delighted to give kiddo these memories. You all know I do that Flash Fiction Challenge on Sundays right? I did it this Sunday writing about the jacket and I think for just under 900 words it came out nice! Hope you like it!

Yeah I love the red stitching the most, what's killer is I have a pair of red driving spandex with feather leather strips over the fingers on it. I love these gloves! They match nicely. I love that this jacket has the huge inner pockets so the gloves are easy to carry in one side. LOL! Thanks for your comments Mari!

Thanks everyone! Check out "Nothing Special" love to know what you think, I will edit it out later today because I don't want it googled.

EDITED TO ADD: Kiddo's jacket will be here Friday! HOORAY! The patch should be here before that too, I am so excited about it too. Hopefully the jacket obsession will let up a little now once I get his jacket's patch sewn on this coming weekend.

"Nothing Special"

The jacket was nothing special, it was different with its flame red double stitching. It had incredibly large inner pockets, generous enough to have a hidden protector, and be packing heat. The jacket laid on their dining room table as the short haired lady who’d given it four hours with button thread loop stitch quality for the attachment of her son’s favorite band in the form of a back patch. It was of course Def Leppard. The mother was proud of her son for losing weight, so she’d bought him another, only this one wasn’t a 2XL like the one that sat on the table in front of her.

She had yet to get the second back patch the Rock dealer had been able to locate for her of the Hysteria album cover. It wasn’t easy to find these patches now a days, but she had been lucky. The man had emailed her back with an invoice two weeks ago and she’d paid for it in full. It was tempting her, it’s folded creases beckoned her attention as she shivered in the cool breeze the crossflow from her windows let in.

“I think when I sewed you on here guys, I knew it was meant to be my jacket, now the boy will have a black denim jacket with this same back patch on it, we’ll match in a cool way. So what if I am 43. I can pull off wearing you dammit.”

Her fingers moved to the well broken in denim jacket she’d picked up in a thrift store for five bucks three years before, when her boy had been a 2XL. Her husband and she had devoted their eating habits to be dramatically altered, they gave up on high fat high carb meals and sugar. The differences were amazing, but best of all was the investment of a treadmill, they all got a lot of use out of it, The boy would have his black denim XL jacket from Sears for an early Christmas Gift.

She fingered the creases of the fabric, fondly remembering how it had been a marathon sewing session, four straight hours of listening to their favorite musicians, hard rock, including some Def Leppard songs. It had been fun, the family had gravitated to help out. Her husband did the sticky iron on stuff for hemming things on the back of the patch much to her anxiety. She watched worried he’d scratch the paint off the patch with the metal plate of the iron, but he’d been careful, gently weaving the hot metal across the table on a towel so that the metal would straighten out the back folds of the denim.

She smiled remembering how the needle broke when she had two feet of useful button thread, and how she’d not known right away to tie it off and cut. But her husband told her so she did it, but not before their son had had a good laugh at her gentle expense. Yes, this jacket would fit her nicely. She lifted it onto her shoulders, and slid right into it. It felt good. It felt like youth to her, and she sighed as she buttoned it up, it was no secret that she had been looking for a decent denim men’s jacket in a 2XL, so this was a pleasant surprise.

She was looking forward to seeing her son happy, and as she stuck her hands into the hand warmer pockets, she sighed. It felt like it was meant for her, but she noticed the sleeves were too long, so folded over once was not enough. She gave it another roll and it was perfection. This was a great addition to her wardrobe. Her son’s jacket would be worn until he took over the biggest item, his father’s prized leather motorcycle jacket from his teen years. It was an incredible jacket. His father had dropped a couple of C notes on it and it was in a large. Their boy was 15, he still had it in him to thin out and be able to zip up this large jacket comfortably.

For now it would be this nice Sears heavy Lee black denim jacket, with a new hysteria cover back patch to make him feel good. The boy knew he looked better and he told his mother that although he loved this jacket he wanted her to have it. That had warmed her heart. Like his jacket would warm her hands on winter evenings. The density of the fabric was enough to hold in body heat and not lose it rapidly like a lighter denim might have. The last denim jacket she had had snake skin on it, leathery snake skin. It was cool, but it was a large, she wasn’t able to close it yet, but with all their hard work she knew that someday she too would wear an old item of clothing that was sentimental to her, like this finely tuned jacket her boy had entrusted her with this afternoon.