I had the pleasure of seeing a precious (old, duh) doctor today--along with the less pleasurable experience of having a sore throat and fever--and, while not sporting a cardigan sweater, he did have on a cushy, navy blue jacket. Paired with his white hair, glasses, soft, shy smiles, and his kind and unrushed medical attention to me, I just wanted to spend the rest of the day with him. When he advised me to drink warm liquids I wanted to say, "Well come on over, I'll make us tea!" Oh, he was so prec. Our jackets almost matched. And by matched I mean they both had zippers, collars, and sleeves. I felt really crummy when I walked into his office, but felt genuinely uplifted after absorbing some of his gentle kindness and affection.
(P.S. If you are looking for a great read about a man in cardigan sweaters, check out "I'm Proud of You" by Tim Madigan. It is a memoir about Fred Rogers and it is amazing. I gave it to my Dad and he cried. Well, he cried at the note I tucked in the book along with our shared love for Mr. Rogers. I don't think he has actually read it yet, but he will undoubtedly cry again when he reads it.)