Yeah, that's right. A Snuggie. You've seen the advertisements. The Snuggie ... the blanket with sleeves.

My husband asked me if I wanted the curlers and knee socks to complete the ensemble.

In other words, he is not impressed with the Snuggie, and the chances of me finding one under my tree on Christmas morning are pretty slim.

I tried to get some Snuggie support from my friends Chris and Emily -- only to find they both sided with Andy. Chris told me to just wrap a regular blanket around myself and said he "wondered about" me. I believe the exact word Emily used to describe the Snuggie was "ridiculous."

Those I thought would be in my corner ended up hating on the Snuggie.

I am a person who enjoys coziness. Why is this concept so hard for people to understand?

I think a blanket with sleeves is genius.

You can read! Use your laptop! Enjoy a snack! All without getting cold.

You know, I bought a lot of gifts for people I loved even if I didn't understand them. You think I knew what a sawzall was? No, but I got one for my father once. One year my mother, who collects things with black and white cows on them, really, really wanted a teakettle shaped like a smiling Holstein.

It was nothing I'd ever display in my kitchen, but she wanted it, so I got it for her.

I just don't think my hubby understands how much I'd love a Snuggie. I've always thought that gift giving was about making the recipient happy, not about whether or not you thought what they wanted was stupid.

Oh, well. At two for $19.95 (and you get a bonus clip-on reading light!), Snuggies are a real steal. I guess I should resign myself to the fact that I will probably have to spend some of my Christmas cash buying one for myself.