12 Days of Christmas, Day 12 – Samantha Berger

This is it, the 12th day for this editions of these 12 Days of Christmas with the most wonderful glorious Christmas Memory of pyjamas coming from my superb friend from Brooklyn – Samantha Berger.Sam writes and writes and writes. She wrote the picture books Martha Doesn’t Say Sorry and Martha Doesn’t Share both illustrated by Bruce Whatley. When she isn’t writing books, she’s writing cartoons, and when she isn’t writing books and cartoons, she likes to help rescue dogs, and to travel all around the world. Then, she writes about that, too. Samantha lives in Brooklyn NY, with her dog Polly Pocket, and is writing at this very moment.

Read on and get wrapped in this great Christmas Memory – and I have left Sam’s spelling of the night clothing here.

You Never Grow Out of Christmas

When I was eight years old, and my brother Milo was five, we both got a wonderful gift, one Christmas morning:
THECOOLESTMOSTINCREDIBLYAWESOMEAMAZINGEXCELLENT PAJAMAS OF ALL TIME!!! (with no less than three exclamation points).
Mine: a pink, rose-budded, satin gown, that hit the floor and gave me insta-fairy-princess status
Milo’s: Superman comic book pajamas, with built-in feet and an added cape to aid with flying.
All Christmas day, we played and posed, as pleased and proud as anyone’s every been of their sleepwear.

We loved these new pajamas with a PASSION and dubbed them “The Official Christmas Pajamas.” Our photo was taken wearing them by the Christmas tree, and we declared wearing the pajamas every Christmas, a new family tradition.

There was just one issue:
They were too big. Way too big on both of us.
The nightgown trailed on the floor, acting much like a giant dust mop.
My brother’s pajamas sagged at the waist, knees and feet, giving him the appearance of a shuffling elf, who’s had a little too much eggnog.
This was justified by the one sentence grown-ups always say, “They’ll grow into them.”

And sure enough, we did.
The very next year, my nightgown almost fit, and my brother’s PJs were perfect.
The photo was taken and the tradition continued.

The year after that, my nightgown fit, but no longer touched the floor, and the sleeves were a bit short.
My brother had to cut the feet off his pajama bottoms, because they only reached this middle of his shins.

The year after that it was ridiculous.
The year after that it was comedy gold.
The year after that, it was impossible.

So…at the very end, the Official Christmas pajamas were converted into things like Official Christmas Hairbands, Wristbands, and Doll Clothes, but at the end of the day…they STILL made it into that Christmas photo one way or another.

To me, all these years later, this has meaning:
You can grow out of clothes, but you never grow out of Christmas.
(she writes, as she dabs away a tear with the pink, satin Official Christmas Hankie!)

See, I told you it would be an amazing Christmas Memory! Have a look at Samantha’s website. It’s fun.

Thanks for dropping in to check out these Christmas Memories. I love reading these memories and hope you do too. And already there are other folk chomping at the bit to add their Christmas Memories so come December 26 … there will be more.

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