Grandma's Apron

When I was in 7th and 8th grades, I took some home-ec classes. In the cooking part of the class, we were required to bring an apron. One of our first "lessons" was needlepointing (kind of) a name tag to sew on the apron. My mom took me to my grandma's house and I inherited one of her aprons.
My grandma wore an apron all the time. It wasn't like the almost rectangular kind with the strap around your neck and tie in the back you see on t.v. shows etc. Grandma's had snaps up the front and you put it on like a sleeveless button up shirt. She always kept a pen and who knows what else in the nicely sized square pockets on the front. All her aprons were made of pretty, delicately flowered fabric that I always think of as wall paper patterned.
In junior high, I don't remember, nor do I honestly know if I even really looked at, what other people had. I just remember and I hate to admit it now that I was a bit embarrassed because my apron would be different. I feel bad saying that now. I would hate for my mom or grandma to know I felt that way. Even at the time I knew I didn't want them to know and I knew it was rather petty of me to feel it. So, I swallowed my adolescent pride and wore the apron.
Last night as I cleaned my kitchen in my old t-shirt that I wear as pajamas, I thought "I need an apron." And I remembered the feelings I had in junior high. I remembered very fondly the burgandy flowered apron I still have tucked away in a drawer. Even in junior high, I thought it was kind of neat to have something of my grandmother's. And last night, I wanted to wear that apron. In fact, I've about decided to go to the fabric store and buy some of that wonderful fabric I wouldn't know what else to do with and make me a handful of aprons! And someday, when I teach my daughter to cook, I'll tell her about my grandmother's aprons.