I have clothes like that. I have a Cross Country t-shirt (No, I didn’t run Cross County. Don’t make me laugh.) that I’ve had for ten years. It’s worn to absolute rags. Huge holes cover the entire shirt—the armpits, the neckline, all around the writing. You can’t even read what the shirt used to say anymore. I rescued my poor shirt from my mother and the trashcan several times. I think I even had to rescue it from my college roommate once. I wear this shirt very rarely these days. It has to be washed by hand, and—I’ll be honest—I’m lazy. I still snuggle into it every now and then.
I also have a pair of footie pajamas. I’m talking REAL footie pajamas—enclosed feet with grippers to prevent sliding, sagging bottoms, scratchy zipper, horrid color. For the record, these pajamas are light pink with bright pink pinstripes. They have cute little penguins. That’s a plus. I’m not sure even the penguins make up for the fuzzy poms on the zipper pull though. These are some seriously ugly pajamas. I love them. Seriously LOVE them.
Much to my roommate's dismay (same roommate who tried to throw away my shirt. God, I love that girl.), I used to troop up and down the stairs of our co-ed dorm to pick up papers or do laundry in them. She was horrified. Poor dear. Other girls would look on in terror of my pink, fleece footies. Some would ask where I found them, probably to find the stock of them and burn them before they had to be subjected to the god-awful looking things on another person, but perhaps to buy their own footie pajamas. Okay, that’s doubtful.
Boys in the dorm spent a lot of time looking at their feet when they spotted my pajamas. The nice boys did anyway. I heard a plethora of lewd comments about this neck to knee zipper my footies have and even more butt flap jokes from the braver boys. My footie pajamas do not have a butt flap, thank you very much.
Why do I love these footies so much? My parents bought them for me. It’s as simple as that. I longing played with a pair of children’s footies in a store one day and told my mother they should make adult footie pajamas. She found them. She tells me my father picked them out. Judging by the hideousness of them, I don’t doubt that. My footie pajamas do have penguins on them though. My daddy knows I love my penguins. My mama does too, of course.
I’m thinking about all this because I just came back inside from walking the dog in my footie pajamas. Tromping around in Brother Bossypant’s ten sizes too big tennis shoes because I couldn’t get my feet in my flip flops thanks to these adorable footies, I can’t help but grin.
And, of course, pray no one sees me.