We got some hand me downs from a friend recently and included in the box was a pair of pajamas for my oldest, who is just about 4. They’re footed pajamas – you know, a onesie-type deal with a zipper from the bottom to the top. Of course M saw them and loved the bats on them (“It’s just like Batman!”) so he wore them to bed tonight. He looks adorable in them, of course, but I can’t help but think maybe he’s a little old for one-piece pajamas.
As I pondered this though, I was reminded that as I child, I really loved footed PJ’s. Like, LOVED them. I wore them til it was well past being socially acceptable. I must have been 13 or something.
And this was decades ago. This was not during our modern age where onesies are all the rage. Oh no. I wore bed clothes best suited for children under the age of 3 until I was a teenager, with no shame about it. I hated having cold feet and footed pajamas ensured my toes were never cold.
They had their downsides, though. When I was maybe 10 or 11, I had a great pair of footies – blue ones with a teddy bear pattern. The lady who’d made them also made my favorite stuffed animal a matching pair because obviously you are never too cool to match your stuffy. I LOVED these ones so was still wearing them even though the snap right by my belly button had ripped and there was a big hole. One night, my mom was packing lunches for the next day and asked me to go to the pantry at the bottom of the stairs and grab some juice boxes. I was sporting my bear-with-the-tear PJ’s, and held the package with one hand, resting it against my belly as I used my other hand to close the door.
It was at that moment when the giant spider who had been ON the juice boxes made his presence known by attempting to escape, – directly into the hole in the fabric by my stomach.
All I could think was if he got in, there was no way he could get out.
I threw the juice boxes and freaked the heck out, dancing and screaming and jiggling until I was certain the beast was off me, and although I can’t remember for sure, I’d hazard a guess that I took those pajamas off immediately. My mom handled the spider (and had to get the juice boxes herself, I’m sure) and I never fully recovered.
Though I still occasionally wore footed PJ’s for a few more years, I believe this incident was the impetus into wearing more grown-up 2 piece jammies: more exits in case of arachnid emergencies. It is entirely possible that, had a spider never threatened to share an outfit with me, I would still be wearing a onesie to bed today.