I had a birthday. It wasn’t a momentous birthday like last year, but it was a birthday and because of that my husband got me, among other things, some new jammies.
I know what you’re thinking, and they aren’t THOSE kinds of jammies. These are the kind that you can wear downstairs in the morning to wake the kids up, and make their lunches while they watch you and complain about having to go to school. These are the kind of jammies that you probably could answer the door in, even if it’s the principal of the kids’ school….and that has happened….or your husband’s suddenly very uncomfortable hunting buddy…..and that has happened too.
However, on this my first night wearing my nice new p.j.’s let me tell you, I had a brand new very exciting sensation as I slipped between the sheets. Yes dear reader, the sparks really flew that night. And once again not THOSE kind of sparks. Actual sparks. The new pajamas are made of a silk like fabric that when combined with the dry air that comes with our prairie winters and the cotton sheets on our bed, sends actual sparks flying that are reminiscent of the Christmases of my youth when my older boy cousins used to shuffle across grandma’s carpet to chase poor little screaming me with their finger pointing out all around the house until one of my uncles swore at us all to shut the hell up…you little darlings or Santa won’t come at all. Ahh, the memories.
I managed to subdue the sparks by lying perfectly still, pretending to be asleep and not moving at all…barely breathing in fact. (As a side note – I find this works well to subdue all kinds of bedroom sparks, if you catch my drift…. if you’re ‘picking up what I’m laying down’ as the kids say).
This worked really well until my wonderful husband decided to reach over and very gently rub my arm. The gig was up then, I had to tell him that he must not move or touch me when I am wearing my new jammies for fear of starting a fire in our bedroom. Not THAT kind of fire.
You can imagine how funny this was to him.
The next morning, after trying to appear busy while drinking coffee in my p.j.s, I realized I was late to pick Ron up, he was waiting for me out in the field. I hurriedly pulled my Carhardt coveralls on overtop of my pajamas, and there were those sparks again! Every step I took was a nice little reminder of how I never fully got that electricity chapter in grade 12 physics.
I contemplated the repercussions of going nude in my Carhardts. What if I had an accident? No big deal, people would be too hurried in my rescue to notice or care that I was nude. BUT the real worry is that my husband will want to go to a neighbor’s house for coffee, and I won’t be able to take off my coveralls, and everyone will think that I’m weird. No, they won’t think it’s weird if I’m in my silky pajamas, but nude will make them wonder. They probably would ask him not to bring me for coffee any more, and then I won’t get any first hand gossip. I would have to rely on Ron to tell me everything that was said, and he won’t remember the good stuff. He will have a very good recollection of current cattle, grain, and fuel prices though which is probably more important….I guess.
So, for now my beautiful light blue p.j.’s are washed and carefully balled up into my drawer – patiently waiting for the humid evenings of summer when I will try them again. Hopefully the next time will be less electrifying!
<Terra> I so badly wanted to sign Kelly’s name to this. That would be funny!