Jammy Time

One of Little Brother's favorite books right now is "Pajama Time" by Sandra Boynton, which we more affectionately refer to as "Jammy Time."


It's a cute, quick little read, great for toddlers.

Due to a growth spurt, Big Brother recently picked up some Scooby-Doo, Horton, and Superhero jammies.

Due to hand-me-downs, Little Brother recently picked up some Elmo and Thomas jammies.

Lately, both boys have been all about their jammies.

In fact, if left to their own devices, both would probably wear jammies all day, without so much as a thought about wearing "regular" clothes.

In reality, once it starts to get dark, they put on jammies with jackrabbit-like quickness.

"Hey, it's almost goodnight time," says Big Brother (at 5pm).

It doesn't matter if Mom-E just served up a heaping plate of granola bars and chocolate milk for dinner, Big Brother rushes of to his room and emerges in jammies. Little Brother invariably follows suit.

While this is all really cute, it reminds me of a funny story.

*****
Sure, kids like jammies, but I'd have to say that there is a genetic component to this infatuation.

When I was growing up, putting on jammies was the last thing you did before you went to bed. Prior to that, you pretty much just hung out in your "regular" clothes all day. Especially if there was company at the house.

Mom-E's family was quite different in that regard. At their house, it was pretty much a national pastime to put your jammies on and gather by the fireplace/tv after dinner. (And this was tastefully done, with most everyone wearing robes).

I, on the other hand, wear boxers and a t-shirt to bed. I don't think I've ever owned a robe.

And so you can imagine the slight shock to my system the VERY FIRST time I met/visited Gramm-E and Grampap-E.

We had no sooner finished dinner/clean-up, than Grampap-E said, "Hey Dad-E, why don't you go put your jammies on and we'll all gather round the fire."

"Uh, I just met you. And while I like you and am confident in my manhood, I'm not sure I'm ready to take our relationship to the 'next level' of hanging out together in jammies just yet," I thought to myself.

I don't remember exactly what happened next, but I'm pretty sure that I didn't wear jammies that time.

Eventually, however, I grew in my comfort (when in Rome...), and wanting to make a favorable impression and "fit-in" with the rest of the family, I started wearing jammies (invested in a pair of jammy pants) after dinner with them.

Oh, the things we do for love.

And today, I don't mind hanging out in jammies, but I know with certainty that Mom-E has passed that "gene" along to the boys.

So today, we honor Mom-E's family with the dance from "Pajama Time":

"Jammy to the left. Jammy to the right. Jamma, Jamma, Jamma, Jamma, P!J!"

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E