So, this morning I wanted to go outside (just for a minute!) to water the plants. It seemed like a waste to change clothes, go outside, then shower, and change clothes again.
I took a quick peek outside and didn’t see a single soul. I asked myself, “Really, who am I going to see?” (I should know better than to tempt fate like that.)
I decided it was safe to go outside in my pajamas.
As soon as I got outside and turned on the hose, our street turned into Grand Central Station.
First, the neighbor that lives two houses down from us that I had never seen before walks right by me! It’s a mystery to me why I never saw her on one of the 300 occasions I was outside in normal clothing during the seven months we’ve lived here. How nice that she’ll probably remember me forever as the gal in the red and white-polka-dotted pajamas.
Less than five seconds later, the neighbor across the street came out of her house. Then a truck started to drive by.
Before my plants could get their fill of water, I had my fill of humiliation. I turned off the hose and ran inside.
It seems that pajamas, even more than brownies, are a sure-fire way to guarantee seeing your neighbors.