It’s a very cold and windy night. I’m already in my PJs. Cool plaid pants, t-shirt and a cozy-comfy large grey sweatshirt.
Around this time, my neighbor falls, puts a small crack on his head, and his wife takes him to the hospital. A short time later, the wife sends me a text, asking to go to their house, and inform the 92 year old hard-of-hearing woman who lives with them that they are fine. The husband needs stitches, but he is OK.
Since it is a very cold and windy night (some would even say blustery), I pull a pair of jeans on over my PJ pants and go perform my neighborly duty.
You might be saying to yourself, “Blustery? Rather strong word, isn’t it?” Actually, no. Earlier I was walking to my car from the grocery store, and a gust of wind pushed me along toward my car. That same gust sent an abandoned and evil shopping cart hurtling toward me and my Honda. Yes, hurtling! That’s also not a word I use cavalierly. It looked like a scene from a terrible SYFY movie about a world where shopping carts decide it’s payback time. Fortunately, I am between it and my car, and deftly grab it. With all the lightweight materials they use on car bodies, it probably would have totaled mine.
But I digress.
As I enter the house, I see blood on the floor and kitchen counter. Right away I know two things: 1. My neighbor really did crack his head, and 2. I am NOT cleaning that up.
I inform the 92 year old woman all is well, and don’t worry about the blood in the kitchen.
Back home, I work on the computer, eat dinner, watch TV, do some reading, and decide to get ready for bed. I notice I am wearing my comfy sweatshirt and jeans, and am a little confused. Something tells me this sweatshirt has been allocated to the jammie department tonight, but then, why am I wearing my jeans?
At this point, your typical boring and joyless person would quickly remember that he was already wearing his jammie bottoms. But I am neither boring or joyless, so I stop thinking about it and decide to use the bathroom. Time to change into my PJs. If I use the bathroom first, that means pants down, pants up, then pants down and off, jammies up. Much better use of time to take jeans down now, jammies up, then use bathroom. Actually, it comes out to the same number of up and downs, but somehow, it feels more productive.
So, jeans down, and surprise surprise! My jammie bottoms are already on! Wow! I wasn’t losing my mind earlier, the comfy sweatshirt had already been transferred to the PJ department for the evening, I had merely forgotten they already made the trip. I go into the living room to share the joyous news to my wife, who is already laughing at a picture in a magazine of a man being dragged around by a phone.
So being forgetful has it’s benefits. It’s really a way of appreciating the old as new.
Or as Shakespeare once said, “Men are men; the best sometimes forget.” Not that I claim to be “the best”, but I do forget. And I am a man. With cool PJs.