There Goes the Neighborhood
This is a response from a Writer's Digest prompt. I think it has some potential. I wear pajamas. My girlfriend makes fun of me for it. It all started back before I started school. I would floss, brush my teeth, take a shower, towel off, and I would put on my jammies. My mother would buy me a new pair every Christmas and on my birthday. I had ones for hot weather (a breathable number from Patagonia®), and I had long underwear for the cold winter months. This morning, at around 3:15 a.m. I happen to be wearing my chili pepper pants. My shirt was lost in the midnight tossing and turning. I awaken to the sound of the doorbell ringing. And ringing. And ringing. I throw off the covers. My girlfriend tosses her arm over my chest and makes a sound similar to a lioness in heat. “Hmmrrrgggg. Who that?” Her faculties haven’t quite kicked in yet. “I don’t know, hun. I’ll check it out.” The doorbell rings again, and as I walk from my bedroom and grasp the handle of my Louisvill...