Battle: Pajama

The mucus is still flowing here in the Royal Kingdom. Boogers galore abound in our castle. Two miserable little creatures keep moaning for popsicles and Kleenex and the Queen is moaning for the Queen Mother to fly in from Florida so she can help. But, no such luck. Queen Mother does not arrive for 2 more weeks and by then, I have no doubt, the sea of snot will have subsided or this Queen will have drunk herself silly trying to forget the smell of Vic’s at 1am.

I’d by lying if I said this kingdom was a peaceful one. Because with two sick kids and two parents starting to feel a little unhealthy themselves, tensions are high. So high, that bedtime last night became a battleground. Thunderdome, really. A gauntlet was thrown and I have every intention of calling the Kaiser out to see just how much he really meant what he said.

Kaiser Ota swears he will never, ever put PJ’s on Princess Peanut again. Ever. Never. Ever.

It all started innocently enough. Administering night-time (knock out) medicines, brushing teeth, changing diapers/training pants, and then…the dreaded (duh duh daaaaaaaaa)
“Can you change Peanut too, please…she needs new PJ’s. They are in the nursery.”

To be fair. The nursery is still a disaster from the move. Clean clothes have made it to the top of dressers but not, necessarily IN them. I also need to go pull out all the Princess’s 3-6 month clothing, as its no longer fitting. So sending the Kaiser to go get PJ’s is really an exercise in torture.

The Kaiser returns from the nursery with PJ’s I KNOW do not fit. Since we’ve played this scene out before, I humor him a little and say they might fit Maybe. I’ll try.

I don’t really try. I just announce, while he’s not looking…”Sorry honey, these don’t fit…could you grab another pair…” And this time I give him instructions on where to find a good pair.

He comes back with a perfect pair of PJ’s. And for reasons still unknown to me, I tell him to put them on the Peanut.

I’m fiddling with one thing or another…the Count’s toothbrush, his nighttime juice, his nightlight…whatever, when I turn around and see HE HAS PUT THE PRINCESS’S PJ’S ON BACKWARDS.

He’s struggling. She’s trying to crawl out of his reach. He’s trying to snap. She’s getting fussy, he’s trying to just finish the damn snapping. It looks like a nice little wrestling match is going on when I proclaim, “Those are backwards.”

No answer. Still snapping. Did he not hear me?

“Those are BACKWARDS.”

The snapping fiasco abruptly ends. The Kaiser hands me an unbuttoned, half dressed child and proclaims “I am never, ever putting PJ’s on her again.”

Bring it on. Bring it on. I give him 1 week. Then life and circumstance in the Royal Kingdom will dictate he PJ again. I’m sure they will be on wrong. Or not fit. Or be too hot of a material or too summery for 40 degree weather. But he’ll do it again. Oh yes he will.


  1. My husband sent my daughter to school today in a SUN DRESS. It was 52 degrees outside and she had no coat and no SLEEVES. The school called me and I had to bring her a parka. Sometimes men just don’t know how to dress the little girls.

  2. Jenny….parka? Are you from Canada? Maybe the northeast???

  3. I think we need to refer back to Sarah’s original bullshit comment about the pajama drawer being just as much his responsibility as it is hers – and consider its relevance here.

  4. I had that in my mind the entire time I wrote this. Too bad I actually take full responsibilty for the PJ drawer at our house, considering my hubby works 50 hours a week, on the short weeks. It was him putting them on BACKWARDS that was the kicker. As though THAT was my fault. Men. I tell ya.

  5. That does change things. Here, I work full time and Jeromy works … sporadically … at the moment. So you can see why I was behind the pajama drawer rally call (and all it represents).

    But you’re right – the backwards part is the clincher.

  6. Ok, “Pajama drawer rally call” really makes me laugh.

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