Sleeping Like A (Ruffle-Butt) Baby

AAAAAAND . . . the air conditioner broke.

I'm not really one to lay around in my underwear, but when it's 85 degrees in your house at midnight, it kinda seems like the only way to go. Summer is definitely more bearable in your underwear.  I can understand why some people choose to walk abound in it all summer long.

Like babies.

Wouldn't it be awesome if it were socially acceptable for everyone to wear baby clothing?  Like, a tank top onesie with no pant legs?  I could definitely get into that.  That would be a lot cooler than the polyester blouses and denim capris that are the norm around here.  And ruffle-butt briefs are a lot more frilly and fancy than those Lycra skirts that got popular a few years ago.  Just pull on a ruffle-butt and baby tee, waltz into church with that and just see if you don't get a couplea envious stares.

Really, though, I have always hated sleeping without pajamas on, and I think the reason goes back to when I was a kid.

I grew up in California, so earthquakes were pretty common.  I was raised to accept earthquakes as part of life, and if the earthquake was at night, I wouldn't even get out of bed.

When I was about 11, my step-mom was the only adult home one night.  It was our first earthquake experience together.

I woke up to a pretty powerful shaking.  But, of course, I stayed in bed.  My siblings were all still in bed, too.  For all I knew, everyone was still asleep.

SO.  Earthquake.  Kids in beds.  Shaking continues.

Before we know it, a blur of white races  across the hallway toward my brothers' room.  My step mom--in an impromptu sheet toga--pulls my brother off the top bunk whilst trying to hold the top of the toga in place, and simultaneously trying to get the rest of us down the stairs and out the front door.

In my 11-year-old mind I figured she had either been taking a shower right at that exact moment and had run out of clean towels to wrap herself in, or she had been holding a toga party for one.  Or it might have been 85 degrees in the house and she had been laying around in a little less than I am, and just grabbed the first available covering.  It was probably the last option.

So, the lesson I learned from that experience is: always wear pajamas to bed because you never know when your solo midnight toga party will be interrupted by the need to bolt down a flight of stairs while saving 4 small children from the impending doom of a natural disaster.

I only wish that was the last time one of my parents came to save us from an earthquake in the middle of the night without clothes on . . .

The point is, there is a reason I wear full-coverage pajamas to bed every night.  It's so I can be prepared for anything.  And to save my kids the embarrassment of, well, em-barr-ass-ment.

Only, tonight, it's too darn hot.  Sorry kids.  Tonight I'm sportin’ the ruffle-butt . . . minus the ruffle.