March 23. Day 82. There's Always Onesie

I love the onesie. There is nothing cuter than an infant all snugly and warm in its little all-in-one jump suit. That's right. An infant. But somehow the onesie had escaped its rightful home in the pram, nursery or high chair and has infiltrated the land or adults. I do not get the whole adult onesie thing. I do not understand why anyone would make clothing choices that require you to get naked or near naked just to do a wee. If you wear nappies, fine. If you have learned to do your business on the toilet not so fine.  (please do not mention the flap. I do not care to discuss the flap). And not only has the onesie grown in size, it has also escaped its traditional home - the bedroom. Onesies can be spotted everywhere (including quite a number in my son's clothing collection). So I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised at the appearance of a skeleton onesie in the sea of sweaty bodies taking part in the Twilight Running Festival this afternoon. While most people faced with even a five or 10 kilometre run or even a half marathon would choose to wear as little clothing as possible, one bloke thought a onesie might be the go. As if the heartbreak hill up to the Eleanor Schonnel Bridge isn't a challenge enough. But like I say, there's always onsie ...