On Christmas Day, they wanted to know one thing. The suspense had been building for a while, since before Thanksgiving. Probably since, like, October, when we drew names to decide who would buy for who.
When were we going to open our onesies?
That was their singular focus. Not about presents in general. Just the onesies, which were tucked inside paper grocery bags, closed with packing tape, and labeled with sharpie. We keep life simple.
Lulu had already proclaimed a few weeks earlier that she knew this day would be momentous.
I can’t wait to see Grandpa in a onesie. It’s going to change my life.
That’s what she said, before stuffing a new tortilla chip in her mouth as she ate with me and Ron on the deck one afternoon. I knew she was right, I just didn’t know it would change everyone’s lives.
The onesie kickball game, kids vs. grown-ups, is becoming a little thing. And you can only get in if you have a onesie on. We had a few new additions this year, and the game was better for it.
If this keeps up, we might need to move to an actual field soon.