Caught Slipping

As much as I truly enjoyed the House Party Pajama Jammy Jam phenomenon of the late nineties, I am not a fan of the wearing pajamas out and about as regular clothing.  I find no fashion pleasure in the idea of wearing flannel draw string pants or one piece zip ups with the feet in them, at least not in public. Every time I see it I wonder what that person was thinking when they decided to step out the house and hit the streets. Did they roll out the bed, put their shoes on, and begin their day?  Did they shower and put on a fresh pair of pajamas on their way out the door?  Did they take care of their hygiene needs and just forgot to change out of their bed clothes?  I even saw one man at the grocery store with a fresh white bathrobe and slippers on.  That fashion move brings a host of other questions to mind. Needless to say I just don’t feel that pajamas, night wear or slippers can be switched out for regular clothing.

So, I’ve made a routine of refueling my car in the evenings.  I usually have to be at work early and the traffic is so unpredictable.  I just like to be prepared and not have to do a lot of extra stuff that may make me late to my job.  After getting home I’ll usually change my clothes and go through my daily family rituals. After homework has been checked, dinner is done, and chores have been completed, I grab my purse and keys and drive down to the gas station.  A couple of days ago I went through my normal life routine and heading to the gas station.  I jumped out the car with my debit card in hand.  Slowly I shuffled off to pay at the outside island when I discovered, I HAVE ON MY HOUSE SLIPPERS!  I stood there for a second debating if I should go back home and change my shoes.  But knowing this would only cost me more money, time, and gas, I convinced myself that I fit right in with the rest of the world. Most people would just assume that I was a part of the new pajama jam movement.

Shocked and embarrassed, praying I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, I quickly moved to pay, pump my gas and get back in the car.  When I got back home my son was standing in the kitchen. I said, “Look at me!” Of course a child in living in a generation full of pajama fashion statements would never notice anything out of place or peculiar with my ensemble.  He stared at we wide eyed waiting for me to tell him what I thought he should have noticed.  “Look at my shoes! Why did you let me go out like this? Why didn’t you tell me I still had my slippers on?”  A smile joined his wide eyed expression and we shared a brief laugh.

Now a vigilant shoe checker, I strive to be extremely conscience of my sleep wear trying to be sure that I don’t repeat the same mistake. Though I can respect the individual right to express one’s self through dress and style I refuse to be caught slipping into this new pajama trend.


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