When I was a child, I used to sit on my bed and pretend I was the Childlike Empress. I would sit Indian-style and twist the sheets and blankets on my bed, layer by layer, in an upwinding spiral around my lower half. I would tie a ribbon around my forehead like a tiara and pretend I had the Auryn around my neck. I would bestow wishes and grant adventures and smile benignly, all safe and snug in my cozy wrappings. I reminisce about such times.
Still, as an adult, I don’t generally feel the need to wrap myself in a cocoon. I may have a lazy day under blankets or in pyjamas occasionally, but that’s not quite the same thing. Even if I did, I doubt I would imagine myself as some god or religious figure in my swaddlings. Looking like I’m dressed in a tarp no longer has the same appeal. Perhaps this is a loss of innocence spawned by the onset of puberty, but generally I see it as an advantage fo adulthood.
To close, I give you another post on adult-type wrappings, a.k.a the Snuggie.