I discovered the two thick blankets neatly folded on our sofa after Carlos’s sister had visited.
“Your sister forgot her blankets,” I told Carlos.
“No,” he said, “She gave those to us.”
“But we don’t need blankets,” I said, unfolding them to look at the design. I couldn’t hide my horror as the image of two large tigers appeared before me.
Carlos couldn’t understand why I found the blankets distasteful.
“They’re… tacky,” I whispered, unfolding the other blanket to discover some other kind of cat – jaguars or cougars, I’m not sure.
“Just put them in the closet, okay?” Carlos said, and I did, vowing never to use them or let anyone see them.
And then one day I decided to wash our bed linens but forgot about our comforter in the washing machine until it was bedtime. I threw it in the dryer, determined to wait for it, but I was so tired.
“Just use the tiger colcha,” Carlos said. I reluctantly pulled it from the closet and spread it out on our bed, happy to turn off the lights so at least I didn’t have to look at it. That night we slept so well under the warm, comfortable weight of that tiger blanket that when I folded it up and put it back in the closet I secretly didn’t loathe it so much anymore.
Fast forward to a few days ago and I come upon this article in the LA Times called San Marcos blankets are objects of affection among Latinos. I had no idea this was a “thing” – or at least I had failed to observe it. Once I read the article though I started thinking back on all the friends and family we’ve visited over the years and all the tacky colchas I’ve seen on people’s beds and sofas.
So, confession time, gente. Are you hiding a similar colcha in your closet?
Hilarious related link: Hispanic teen suffocates under four layers of San Marcos blankets (satire)