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My dad had a tradition of giving us new pajamas every Christmas Eve. He’d wrap them up and we’d open them before going to bed so visions of sugar plums would dance in our head or whatever. I wrote this now-ungrateful-sounding blog post about it when I was in college (the first time). I was constructing all this meaning out of the kind of print and color he got me each year instead of being like- gee that’s really nice of him which of course I should have been doing. Hindsight’s a cheeky biotch right?
I priced out the nice pajamas Dad would have bought me this year thinking I might buy them for myself and my mom and my sister and I balked… $70 a set… way more than I’d ever consider spending on myself for something I couldn’t wear to work. And I realized even more just how nice that was…
I found some at the Nordstrom Rack that were more in my price range and got a set for each of us… I felt like my dad would have appreciated it. And I got a print that he never would have picked for me. And I think he would have appreciated that too.
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