By Keenan of DearQueenan.com

Dear Husband,

I think we might have a bit of confusion involving my sleepwear and your expectations. Not all pajamas are created equal. You seem to think that finding me braless on the couch is an invitation for you to try to get to second base while I’m watching my shows. Since you obviously can’t read the clothes, let me break it down for you:

There’s Lingerie: That skimpy stuff you last saw on the floor of our honeymoon suite, which is now currently collecting dust at the bottom of my drawer beneath undergarments with greater elasticity. This you should not expect to see again until such times as: A) we are alone in a hotel room on a fabulous adult-only vacation, B) it is your birthday and I forgot to buy you a gift, or C) I have renewed my interest in bikini waxing.

There’s the Actual Pajama: Matched sets of soft clothing not designed to be worn out of the house and therefore not favored by women of the carpool lifestyle, but might be considered enticing in a 1960’s Doris Day kind of way.

And then there are the random pairings of well-worn t-shirts and over-sized lounge pants favored by mothers the world over. These items are never intended to attract sexual attention or arousal of any sort. These are what I like to call the NO-JAMA.

The pairing of the jersey pants with a non-matching tee of questionable cleanliness is a signal that you need to back up off my shit. Do you really need me to say the words? Can you not read the freaking signs or do I need to write S-T-O-P across my chest?

Nobody feels sorry for the asshole who got his car totaled when he ran a red light. Just think of my NO-JAMAS as a big ol’ red light at the intersection of I-Guess-It’s-Been-A-While and You’ve-Got-To-Be-Kidding-Me. Never cross that light….never.

NO-JAMAs are not intended to be flattering, and they are not intended to be sexy. They are comfortable, which is what my mother intended when she bought them for me … and for herself. That’s right, your mother-in-law wears these very same pants. Still turned on?

You don’t see me pawing all over your busted-ass gym shorts while you watch Deadliest Catch, do you? No, because I respect that you are just trying to relax in a comfortable environment (and also because pulling gross things out of dirty water and narrowly escaping with your life is something I already experience at bath time with your children.)

Now, do not be confused by the women you see on television, rolling out of bed in short satin nighties, wrapping themselves in see-through robes and enticing their men back to bed. These images are designed by other (mostly gay) men as a fairytale version of a life you do not lead. I have a similar fairytale where I, too, am enticed back to bed…ALONE, binge-watching Netflix and wrapped in the comforting embrace of my threadbare Homecoming ’98 tee shirt.

I understand that you find this reality quite disappointing, but surely even you can understand how sexy sleepwear might not be appropriate when jumping out of bed at 1:00 am to hold someone’s hair back while they puke. And I certainly don’t need to wake to find a toddler has snuck into my bed in the middle of the night and is snuggled up with the wrong kind of teddy. Our health insurance doesn’t cover that much therapy.

So when you see that jiggle through the jersey fabric of my lounge pants, know that it is not a purposeful twerk, but an uncontrollable vibration of cellulite that is not ever meant to be commented upon.  Don’t get yourself all worked up trying to play grab-ass with my parts. NO-JAMAs mean the store is closed for business, and no amount of knocking is gonna get you in the door, but extended loitering and repeated trespassing will get you barred from the premises until further notice.

Read the signs. Respect the NO-JAMA, and all will be well.

Sincerely,

Your Wife

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