Ever since I was little, it has been a Christmas tradition to open one present on Christmas Eve. However, the gift was always the same; pajamas. As we grew older, it was anticipated, and we even tried to get my mother to allow us to open a different present, but to no avail. The tradition continued each year, and I have to say I really looked forward to opening that gift.
We never had the same jammies twice. Sometimes they were purchased, but more often than not, my mother lovingly made them. This year was no exception. Even after undergoing shoulder surgery for a torn rotator cuff, she set about making pajamas for everyone in the family. 10 grandchildren, Zach's missionary companion, Mark and Heather and Ivan and I. Even Grandma and Grandpa had a set. This is our yearly picture of the grandkids, minus one. Zach will have to send us a photo of he and his companion in their "jammies."
When speaking to the family on Christmas, Zach asked Grandma why she made such "ghetto" jammie bottoms. He said, "I know I'm serving in the hood, but I don't need to dress like it." Too funny. Needless to say, I hope this is a tradition that our children will continue when they start their families, because if they don't, I'll be providing the jammies myself. It's wonderful how traditions like this bring us so much joy.
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