I admit it – I like to wear an apron. It’s not that I’m a great chef, it’s that I’m a terrible mess. I spill and splatter stuff like you can’t believe while cooking, so having one on has saved many shirts from oil disasters. I leave it on while eating, too, so it’s like I’m wearing a giant bib.
I have four. A Christmas one from my mom, a stripey one that I love the most, and two cheap-o white ones that have been the victims of various iron-on experiments. (One was for my preschool’s Potato Bake and one was testing a word puzzle for when Beth was pregnant.)
Another plus of wearing one? In cold weather it’s like wearing a blanket for your front.