I’d go to sleep, but I have nothing to wear

Ours is a house divided.  By pajamas.  I don’t wear them.  My Sweet Lady and Tallulah do.  It is, perhaps, a cultural thing.  My family has redneck as a recessive trait.  It does not come out often — at least not in the immediate family — but it is there.  Pappy was known to eschew pants when there were no visitors in the house.  Knowing that Pappy might likely walk through the house in his underwear at any moment, we tended not to bring friends home.  Pajamas, therefore, did not ever penetrate our consciousness.

From time to time, my Sweet Lady will ask if I do not want a pair or two.  This seems unnecessary to me.  I have a drawer full of t-shirts, and as a boxer man, I have a ready supply of sleeping garments for my lower extremities.  Viola!  Pajamas as good as Pappy’s, if not better.  (He wore briefs.)  The only question left to be settled is which shirt on which night.  Unfortunately, this requires more than a minimum of consideration at the end of the day.

We have a fairly heavy comforter on the bed.  My Sweet Lady tends to experience cold more than I.  Wearing a long sleeved t-shirt to sleep is out of the question.  Some nights, the metabolism gets cranking pretty good and Sanuk D is glistening by morning.  Plus I assume a general funk grows on the clothes during the course of the night.  Therefore “good” t-shirts won’t work in terms of something to sleep in.

“Good” t-shirts have, of course, a good design.  They may also have sentimental value.  They are by definition comfortable.  No night funk on the good shirt.  Less good shirts are a) longer in the tooth b) stained in the armpits and/or c) cotton/poly blends as opposed to 100% cotton.  A shirt can go from good to less good.  It stands a chance of being promoted back to good.  A bad shirt which is a poly/cotton blend is unacceptable for sleeping due to its uncomfortableness.  Such an evaluation must before any shirt is removed from the drawer.

Standing at my dresser last night, tired from a long day, I was dismayed at the effort that dressing for bed presented, what with the evaluating and choosing and so forth.  I just wanted to sleep.  I wished for a set of clothes made just for going to bed.