Well, there you go. I lasted all of about two weeks wearing a nightgown to bed. It was the cold spell, the knowing I have all these lovely gowns, and probably had a little to do as well with the fact that as an EMT, I had often stumbled into the rather unpleasant scenarios of old folks naked in their beds, that gave me the great idea to don nightclothes.
But the same thing happened just as it always did and does, and I’ve once more sworn off the habit. I am a restless sleeper; move around a lot at night. Could be running away from monsters in my dreams, or could be dancing with Willie, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter; a nightgown ends up bunched around my waist or on a bad night, under my armpits.
Last night it warmed up a bit and I found myself on top of the covers, butt naked to the pale morning light.
Honest, I think nude under the covers is much better.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology