Footsy Pajamas

It was right before any of the other seven children were born, and we had to move out of our tiny two bedroom ranch style house in Michigan City, Indiana. Donald, or as I called him, Ducky because of the favorite Disney character that graced the cinema every so often, were as happy as clams whenever we were together. Who needed Mary, Jimmy, Beth, Ann, Paul Jr, Francie, and Clifford. At that moment in time, we just needed each other for instant entertainment, companionship, and a good laugh. Little did I know then, that I truly did rely on Ducky for all of this, even when we were much older. In this photo, I remember being fresh out of a bath and yanked into our new pajamas that came equipped with those little footsies that toasted your feet when you were cold, but by the middle of the night, your feet were roasting. My mom, just like every mom of the decade, bought me a nice pink set, while Ducky snuggled up in his little pale blue number. After our baths, my mom would sit next to the tub and carefully detangle all my knots, brush out my hair, and secure it with a tiny barret that she bought at the drug store. Ducky was fervently against any kind of grooming. I was shocked when he showed up to his wedding with a tiny black comb that you recieve when your school snapshot is taken. We are exactly nine months apart. And it shows. I, of course, am the older responsible one and ended up becoming a mom at the ripe old age of six. Oh no, don't worry. All of my younger brothers and sisters became my training sessions for the real mcoy that made his appearance just this last Fall. His name is Donald.

Ducky always knew how to get himself in these sticky situations, climb on out as smooth as ever, and make it all look like a piece of pb and j. But he was always the sweet talker. He knew how to make my mom feel like a million bucks whenever she got all dolled up for mass on Easter. Ducky was able to make my dad sound like the the number one school priniple when he talked to others while my dad stood there unabasshedly beaming. For me, Ducky gave me the feeling of comfort. Sheer comfort. It is one of the best feelings in the world. When I am with Ducky, I feel like I just slipped back into those footsy pajamas, and keeping my memories alive with his vivacious personality. It is so easy to forget those little things that made you giggle uncontrollably for hours when you were younger. But Ducky did not let time age his three year old humor, and there are some days that he brings out the three years and nine months in me.

submitted by Alice-Kate Raisch
age 18
New York, USA
April 2001

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