Now I am the first one, admittedly, to give a look of wonderment to adults I see out shopping who haven’t gotten out of their pajamas to do so. I don’t get it. It takes minutes and you know you are going to be out there in the population, probably amoung people that you might want to take you seriously one day.
Having said that, however, it is here I must confess that I have recently left my own yard in my own little PJs. Rainbow, you see, likes to go to school early to play chess… well mostly to watch chess because we can’t seem to get there in time… but nonetheless needs to be there about a half hour before the rest of us have to be out the door. And I am typically too busy zooming about taking care of waking, nagging, lunches, nagging, organizing, nagging, yadayada, to get myself ready until the last minute. So, as it was, I was not ready and she needed to be going.
So, thought Sock Girl, I don’t actually have to get out of the van… I just need to pull up to the school, she gets out, and I pull away. What really would be the harm if I just put my coat on over my jammies and went to drop her off? It was mild, the van didn’t need the windows scraped, I would probably even get her there in time to play instead of watch. So I grabbed my coat, and off to school we went. “Are you going out like that?” Rainbow asked. “Relax,” I replied.
Now, if you have already surmised (that’s for Mamacita!) that this is one of those times when what seemed like a good idea at the time really wasn’t, you would be correct. I had no sooner pulled up to the school when, because it was so mild, a huge hunk of snow slid right off the roof covering most of my windshield and was too dang heavy for the wipers to move. So there I was… van still in the street… with minimal visibility… my child on the sidewalk with other school kids… and me in my freaking jammies. Beautiful. I could either get out of the van and clean the windshield by hand, in which case parents, teachers, and children would see me in my flannel clad loveliness, and it would probably scar my kid psychologically for life, or I could sit there in the sunshine until the snow melted off the darn glass. What to do… what to do….
I’ll probably end up nominated for Canada’s Worst Drivers, but it turns out that I choose to inch down the road peeking though the top of the clear glass, and then things eventually shifted just enough for the wipers to work. Nonetheless, I would like to go on record as saying jammies out of your yard is never a good idea. I am now the voice of experience.
PS: I know that I am supposed to clean all the snow off the roof of my vehicle. But I’m 5 feet tall. And the van is taller than me. I do what I can.
