When the 1940s come calling

by Katie on January 3, 2015

One of my Christmas missions, upon becoming a parent, is finding the perfect pair of Christmas pajamas. This year, for some reason, I wanted a pair for myself as well. Of course, matching family pajamas would have just really been icing on the cake, but I’m fairly certain that may never be happening in this household. But please, correct me if I’m wrong, Dear Husband.

Anyway, my pajama search didn’t really all pan out the way I planned, and next year I plan to pre-order all the perfect monogrammed ones I came across back in the fall. On Christmas Eve, I finally ended up with a pair I was at least satisfied with for Leyton. And while they weren’t really “Christmas-y” and definitely didn’t match, I found a pair for myself I was pretty excited about.

In fact, I even took a moment to search Target’s online selection in attempt to show you my purchase, but they weren’t listed online. They were the perfect combination of winter cozy, but not too warm for the desert, pretty but woodsy, soft and comfortable, with the right amount of fancy to not make you feel like a total bum if you find yourself still wearing them after lunch the day after Christmas. (Not that I would know.) And, I was really drawn to the full pajama look this year – you know, long-sleeve button-up top, full-length drawstring pants.

So I stuffed my perfect pair of pajamas into my stocking (yes, I know how ridiculous that is, but we don’t really do gifts, and Brandon doesn’t like it when something gets put in his stocking and mine is empty). And on Christmas morning, I was thrilled.

But, when I put them on after my shower on Christmas night, Brandon was…less than thrilled.

In fact, his exact words were: “Um, the 1940s called, and they want me to let you know that we don’t sleep in separate twin beds anymore.”

But I love them. And me and my 1940s pajamas are not going down without a fight.

Because that’s what 6.5 years of marriage looks like, for all you newlyweds out there.


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