Pajama Ride

One of my favorite treats as a small child was taking a pajama ride. This is when you get all ready for bed, squeaky clean from a bath, hair still damp, cozy in a clean pair of pj's, and you jump in the car for a nighttime adventure.

There was something so deliciously daring about being out of the house in pajamas. (This feeling wore off in college, when for some reason, I found myself out in pajamas a little more than necessary - hello Walmart or Waffle House!) Maybe it's because we knew we had dodged the bedtime bullet for a time, maybe it was the promise of adventure (even the grocery store takes on a allure when you're out after bedtime in your pajamas). Maybe it was the realization that the safe, snuggly bedtime feeling was portable, turning, for a moment, our family car into a mysterious magic carpet ride of dusky streets and twinkling streetlamps and togetherness.

Sitting in the backseat with my little brother, there would be no whining or shoving or complaints of "he's on my side of the car". We'd have our noses pressed to the dark windows, watching the golden snake of headlights stretch behind us, feeling mightily superior to all the other kids who had to put their heads down on pillows and obediently shut their eyes while we embarked on our top-secret stealth mission to...

We christened Violet into this family tradition over the weekend, when we loaded her into the car, clean and damp and cozy, for a quick trip in search of a "special treat". Our wanderings lead us to Dairy Queen, home to many a treat, where we shared a Blizzard (somehow she ended up with the lion's share - next time she'll get her own!) before heading on our contented, drowsy way home.

Pajama Ride!

Rainbow on our way.