The Pajamas of Death

I am a petite gal. I always have been, since my petite mom gave birth to me two months early, and I always will be. I think every other vertically-challenged female out there will agree with me when I say that the most difficult part of being just a shade over five feet tall is trying to find clothes that fit properly. Almost every pair of pants needs to be hemmed, every dress needs to be shortened, and every shirt that requires any sort of boobage to fill it out looks ridiculous. Such is my plight.

Yesterday, I visited my favorite store of all time: Target. While I was there picking up various necessities and whatnot, I passed through the girl's section (yes, I do occasionally peruse the girl's section) and my eye fell on the rack of long underwear. Have I mentioned how cold I get in the winter? Because I do. I am not good friends with Circulation. My hands and feet start to feel icy at the mere mention of winter. On top of that, my bedroom is on the ground floor of our apartment, next to the garage. It gets damn cold in there at night when the heat rises to the upper floors, even when I'm curled in the fetal position under my flannel sheets, fleece blanket, and thick comforter. So when I spotted the long underwear in the girl's section, I immediately thought, "Those would make EXCELLENT pajamas!" I convinced myself that they would be warm, they wouldn't bunch around my arms and legs like looser (adult) pajamas would, and I could easily tuck the tapered ankles into my wool socks when the temperature really plummets. (I know I am painting a beautiful picture of what I look like when I sleep...would you like me to talk about my retainer too? Because yes, I definitely still sport that from time to time). So I grabbed a pair of long underwear that were actually sewn for a 14 year old and not a 23 year old, but I just laughed because the whole set was a lovely shade of light blue and only cost $12. And then I went home and slept in them.

Tonight when I was doing laundry, I threw the long underwear in with everything else, because they were a wee bit scratchy and I figured a good wash would soften them up. Plus, it's probably wise to wash pajamas before they're worn, or I don't know, scabies or psoriasis or leprosy could ensue. As I was removing the pants from the dryer, I noticed what was written on the tag:

NOT INTENDED FOR SLEEP!

And to further emphasize their point, the words were BOLD and IN CAPS and surrounded by a BOX (which I could not recreate here in this post, because I am not computer savvy). There might as well have been a skull and crossbones on there too, but the tag would have been a little pressed for space. Anyway, I found this blunt declaration of danger to be quite perplexing. Here were these $12 long johns from the children's section of Target and Cherokee had the gall to tell me not to wear them as pajamas?! What, was I going to burn up if my bed ever caught on fire? Hmm what's this...made of 100% polyester...okay so maybe I would burn up. But then why do they encourage CHILDREN to wear them? What if a real 14 year old was to put these on and sit next to her crush at a church retreat and make s'mores together and she leaned towards the bonfire to show off her master marshmallow-roasting skills and then GAHHHH! FIRE IN HER LONG UNDERWEAR!

I cannot support that. Cherokee, you are dead to me.

With that, I folded the fabric Judas very neatly, dug the tiny hanger and tags out of the trash can, and tried my best to make it look as if I had simply opened the package to try them on. Not to wear them overnight and wash them with the rest of my dirty laundry. I will be returning them to Target on Monday, and I hope to find a much less dangerous (and perhaps softer) pair of pajamas to keep me warm throughout these long winter nights. Maybe something...like this:Thanks LL Bean! You know I love history, now I can pretend to be a part of it too!