5 reasons I don’t sleep naked…

Several times a year, it seems, conversation eventually drifts ’round to the age-old question of pj’s or nude.
Now, I have very strong feelings about this. And it has nothing to do with insecurities or self-consciousness. Personally, I love to be naked, but there is a time and place for it. Bathing…obviously. Smooshing of the naughty bits…duh. Skinny dipping. Streaking…if you’re into that. Dancing under the light of the full moon.
Naked is good.
But…

I hate sleeping in the nude.

Too much opportunity for rude awakenings, and little to no opportunity for grabbing a robe or something with which to cover oneself.
and so I present… 5 reasons I don’t sleep naked:

1. Earthquakes – I grew up in Southern California.

2. Tornadoes – I’ve spent the majority of the past 16 years living in various parts of Tornado Alley.

3. Fire – We’ve all seen the naked man climbing down the fire escape when his apartment building caught fire.

4. Chasing raccoons out of the chicken coop at 2am (My friend, not me. I don’t even have chickens.)

5. I just like pj’s. I’m a fan. comfy lounge-like pants. t-shirt. hoodie. and frankly, I just feel “off” with only a blanket touching my bare skin. call me weird. I prefer pajamas. and then I cocoon myself in the fuzzy warm blanket I call Grover.