Pajama Day

Today was pajama day at my children’s school. I wrongly assumed this would make my morning easier. Grab a pajama set, put it on, and out the door we would go. I wouldn’t have to hear about itchy pants or shirts or fight about whether or not something does or does not match. Oh, how wrong I was.

The minute #3, now a kindergartner, woke up, he began obsessing about the day. He questioned how I knew it was actually pajama day and followed me around begging me to email his teacher and confirm the day’s attire. I can understand his concern. I wouldn’t want to show up to work assuming it was pajama day to find all my colleagues in real clothes. That would be horrifying. (I’m pretending here that I’ve had a job in the last decade and that I actually have colleagues and wear clothes on a regular basis. The truth is, I’m unemployed and wear sleep shorts and a jean jacket 90% of the time.) I digress. The point is, I understand the little guy’s reluctancy, but I was hurt that he has so little faith in me that he had to continually ask for proof that I knew what I was talking about, which brings me to my next point.

He doesn’t even really read. I mean sure, “Mat sat on Pat”, is decipherable for him, but why, oh why, didn’t I lie to him and pretend to read him an email from his teacher. He would have never known and been far less anxious about leaving the house dressed for bed. A good mom would have thought of that. I still have so much to learn.

After I had him semi-convinced that today was actually pajama day, he began following me around asking for help finding pajamas. What?! Why was this so complicated? He has 52 pairs of pajamas thanks to four older boys’ hand-me-downs and a Grammy that sends him roughly ten pair per season. He finds a pair every night with no difficulty. I could not understand what the problem was. Thankfully, he took the time to explain it to me, and I want to share, in case anyone else’s child ever has pajama day at his/her school.

Here’s what you need to know:
1. He doesn’t want seasonal pajamas, no Christmas trees, no hearts, no Easter eggs.
2. He can’t wear the tight kind.
3. Nothing with buttons.
4. The waist band must touch, but not squeeze his stomach.
5. The hem of the pant must touch the floor but not pool.
6. No one wears underwear with pajamas. (Plan an uncomfortable discussion of genitals when discussing the necessity of wearing them.)
7. It has to look “cool”.

I challenge you to find a pair of pajamas, in a size 6, that meets this criteria.

I literally removed and dumped an entire drawer to find this elusive pair of pajamas. I sorted and reorganized and eliminated half of the drawer’s contents. Luckily, while I was busy doing that, I only had 627 things that also needed done before I successfully got them out of the house and off to school. He finally found a pair we could both agree on. The shirt had a monster on it holding a gift, which seemed seasonal to me, but I didn’t dare mention it. The pants were of the “tight” variety, but again, if he thought they were wide-leg, I wasn’t about to tell him they weren’t. And just like that, he was ready for school. I really do hope it actually was pajama day.