Years ago, I stole a pair of my father's pyjama pants. Here they are:
I can't actually say what year it was. Process of elimination tells me the theft happened after 2000 and before 2004. Needless to say, I've had them for a pretty long time. Over ten years. They've moved with me eight times. Other than the little box of baby clothes I have from my much smaller days, these pants have been with me the longest. Many dresses and t-shirts have come and gone, a vast abundance of jeans and bags and scarves, but these have stuck around.
What's so special about them?
Not much. I mean, they're your classic man pyjama pants with a traditional drawstring and stripped pattern. They are a couple sizes too big for me and the fabric is a pilling a little. Maybe I love them so much because they used to be my dad's. Regardless, they are my go-to comfort pants.
Sometimes I wonder if my father ever spent time looking for them. Did he have a pyjama shirt floating around for years? Heck, maybe he still does. I wonder if they will ever be reunited. Probably not.