dignified pajamas
Today Nora says, “Mom, we need a pajama party.” And she’s right. So we head down to Memphis blues and order something slow cooked and Elvis, minus the peanut butter and the pussycats. Then we bag the 101 Dalmations at the Black Dog video store (if only because we can) get home and snuggle up in our tackiest fuzziest plaid pajammies with our chosen libations: hot chocolate and marshmallows for Nora, Temptations for Licorice and 1.5 oz of Bookers bourbon on ice for Mommy. I enjoy the evening 80%. 20% of me is very anxious that I spent money I…
