Let me tell you a story about how these pajamas came into being.

Just before Christmas, I popped down to Ottawa Street to pick up…something.  Elastic?  Buttons?  A spool of thread?  I can’t remember but I took my son with me.  He’s well trained for fabric stores and knows not to touch or pull or generally make a nuisance of himself.  But as I was standing at the counter, having my something-or-other cut, he disappeared momentarily.  Not difficult, since he’s shorter than the racks of fabric but still a four year old, unsupervised for even a moment, has an unmatched capacity for mischief and I’d like to avoid a lifetime ban.

I call his name.

No answer.

Again.

This time, he reappears.  He’s staggering down the aisle, his arms wrapped in a death grip around a brand new bolt of fabric nearly as large as he is.

“Andrew!  What are you doing?” I gasp.  “What have I said about looking with our eyes and not with our hands?”

His head appears around the flannel, a dewy, starry look in his eyes.  “Oh, Mommy!  Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” he intones.

“Err…it’s very nice,” I prevaricated, hoping he hasn’t gotten the fabric dirty or made a horrible mess dragging it out.  My milquetoast statement is met with a look of absolute scorn.  Nice?!  Nice?!  What an inadequate word.  Have I no soul?  No taste?  No EYES?!

He shoves the bolt onto the cutting table and sets about showing me the error of my ways.  “There are BULLDOZERS!  And CRANES!  And BACKHOES!  And DUMPTRUCKS! And…and…”  He’s overcome with emotion and can’t go on.  All he can do is stroke the fabric with reverent little fingers.

“Yes?” I prompt.

“Firetrucks.  There are firetrucks on the fabric, too.”  This last is said in the tone reserved for discovering the messiah in your burnt toast or roadhouse waffle.  My son has never imagined such miraculous thing could exist, combining everything he loves into one magical, fabricky expanse and now that he’s discovered it, he’s running no risk of it disappearing.  He is in love.

So I did what any good Mommy would do.  A quick and discrete check at the end of the bolt to ensure my child will still be able to attend post secondary education.  $5.95/m.  I can spring for that.

“Would you like me to make you a pair of pajamas with this fabric?”

Enthusiastic nodding.

“OK.  We’ll buy it here and then go look for buttons at Nova.  Sound like a plan?”

Another nod.

So a very proud young man clutching his bag of fabric accompanied me in search of the perfect buttons.  When he found these enameled firetrucks, he knew it was meant to be.  The cardboard card was wrinkled as he set them on the counter to pay, he was holding on to them so tightly.

And these are the result.   Simplicity 5338, Child’s XS.  Piped collar, front closure, arm and pant cuffs.

The most beautiful pajamas in the world.

At least according to my son. And in this case, he’s the only critic who counts.  🙂