Pajama Eaters Eat Pajamas & Other Important Discoveries

You know what they say: “Those who can’t do teach have friends who can”.

I’m not sure who the wise “they” are , but upon moving to a new city with a newborn I followed this advice whole heartedly. I made a list of qualities my new friends in this new place would need to possess to compensate for my shortcomings and lack-of-doings. After twenty minutes of brainstorming and trying to perform elementary addition using my fingers, the numbers weren’t so much in my favor. I need friends who can cook, jog, diet, clean, iron, knit. Another set of friends would need to cover timely bill payment, yard work, and diaper-changing-sans-dry-heaving. More friends still would need to be found, of course, to  handle the really important stuff like breast-feeding my kid and decorating my new-to-me/old-to-everyone-else house. Granted numbers aren’t my strong suit (note: find friend who adds AND subtracts. Bonus points for knowledge of long division), but the figures came out as follows.

1,984,324 things I can’t do = 1,984,324.5 friends I need in a town whose population consists of mostly cows.

    So I burnt dinner, didn’t jog, caved and fed my massive baby powdered formula. I tried to train my dog to lick dust bunnies from the base boards, and made sure I always had a calculator handy. I would have to navigate this strange world of at-home-mommying alone and lacking most necessary skills. I would have to not do and not teach.

And then I met her.

She blogs. She homeschools four kids. She gardens. She goes to church. She bakes in bulk. She sews things. She leaps tall buildings in a single bound, and (a suspicion not yet proven)  probably has a rockin’ Bat Mobile parked in a mysterious cavernous hole beneath her quaint, tidy home. She most likely has a spectacular cape she wears in lieu of an apron, and she most definitely would hand-stitch and embroider that cape herself. Some call her Jessica. I decided Super J would do just fine.

    Two years later, I still can’t do but graciously she picks up the slack. Finally, just a few days ago, my friend- the domestic diva and overall champion of all things- asked me to help her. I panicked a bit, unsure of what I might bring to the table. Did she need someone to teach her kids bad words? Was chargrilled Pop Tart on her menu this week? What on earth could I do?

Ever the humble one, she flattered me with words about my blog and its being not altogether awful. “I can blog! I can blog!,” I rejoiced in this discovery. Turns out (in addition to bakingschoolingcleaningcookingcouponingorganizingvolunteeringcraftingplantingentertaining) Super J (da-da-da-dummmmmm! Shazzam! Pow!) has taken to hand making brilliantly cute little monsters called Pajama Eaters.

“I want one, ” I tell her enthusiastically.

“Oh, fun! What color would Thomas like?,” she asked.

“What? No. For me. Obviously,” I state…what to me seems obvious.

“Oh, um. Ok. They are, you know, like for children.”

Exactly. Why are they called Pajama Eaters?,” I investigate.

“Well, kids typically throw their pajamas all over their room when they change in the morning. The next night you can’t find them. The kids use it as a stuffed animal, but a special stuffed animal that likes to “eat” their pajamas for breakfast,” she is more convincing that the man who sells blankets-with-sleeves on infomercials.

“So, essentially, in theory, and henceforth, hitherto, it’s a really cute way to get your kids to stop being slobs,” I jot down “Scientific Thesis Maker” beneath blogger on my Things I’m Not Awful At list.

We chatted on about a variety of thrilling topics:

Pajama Eaters can be created in your choice of custom fabrics: Order  to match your child’s bedding or room decor

Their hungry little backs can be embroidered with your child’s name or initials.

Where is your secret bat cave and why won’t you just show me already?

      I considered it a success when Super J relented and agreed ( more or less… mostly less) that it was perfectly acceptable for me to have my very own Pajama Eater. I think I changed her mind when I, again, referred to the all-knowing “they” and said “You know what they say, don’t go through life without a Little Spoon”. That “they”, after all, led me to her.

So, here I am, using my one “can do” for a friend with little she can’t do. I’d love for you to check out her funky Etsy shop, Nom Nom Cookies and see what you think! I have a feeling you’ll see those PJ Eaters’ sweet, little eyes and fall in love. Super J makes precious handmade items. Captain T writes silly things. Together, we write silly things about handmade items!  And you, dear readers, reap the reward. Jessica is offering a 10% discount especially for you. Just use code RAMBLEON at checkout. To sweeten the already super sweet, one of you will win your very own (ok, whatever. You can give it to your kid) Pajama Eater. I, for one, am shamelessly not giving mine to my boy.

Awww! Now give me your PJs, child.

TO WIN:

Tell us what else your Pajama Eater would eat.

EXAMPLE: Considering my abundance of size and fondness for baggy man pajamas, I’ve decided my Pajama Eater can’t possibly be big enough to devour my XXX HuskyL knickers. To keep the handmade cutie smaller than a sedan, I’d have to let him get his munch and crunch on with various other items: books about weight loss (informative & ironic), snacks, snacks, and- if I need a midnight bite- more snacks.

Winner will be announced Friday during a very special Very Bloggy Wedding, Very Much About Wedding Dress post.

*You can spot Super J

(goes by Jessica Carter when she’s feeling all Bruce Wayne about things) 

on her blog or Etsy page

 

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49 thoughts on “Pajama Eaters Eat Pajamas & Other Important Discoveries

  1. Can she make them for socks and sneakers? And soda cans and potato chip bags and a pizza box? And for disrespectful attitudes? Oh, lets just get to the point. Can they eat kids and parents can be done with it? Forever.

  2. Well I wont enter since I co-author Molding Minds with Super J, but I want to feed your monster all of my dirty dishes. If he just wanted to lick them clean I would be ok with that too.

    • Yay! Welcome, Anna. I have been reading up at MM! I’d like to offer my toddler’s services should your PJ Eater not lick plates to your satisfaction. He’s only two, but eats like a man :)

  3. A Pajama Eater is such an amazing idea! I totally want one. I normally just shove my jammies under my pillow and it makes my pillow sit all funny on the bed and it looks “off.” If I had one of these, I could stop jacking up my poor pillow!
    I’m totally going to remember these for when my friends’ kids get old enough to wear jammies!

  4. LOVE these! And I would totally use one myself. Not that my 18, 20 and 22 year old kids would be fighting me for it anyway.

    Hey! Can Super J make one that will hold… say … 180 pounds? I’d put my husband in there when he’s getting on my nerves. Which is often.

  5. I would use mine for road trips. I always pass out in the car and need on hand a few items. So inside my “take along pj eater” my glasses case, phone charger, change purse for snacks for my five girlies, snacks, and wow im getting super excited of all I could stuff in it. I too know Super J and put her in a pedalstool above all moms.

    • I’m still considering making a bumper sticker that reads “Super J: She Be Super” and sticking it on her minivan without telling her. I think she’d thank me later :) LOVE your idea of a traveling PJ Eater. That’d be a lot cuter than the bajillion bags I always pack!

  6. If I had me a Pajama Eater, I would treat him so good -real good bebe’! I would take him dancing at the local Shiver Shak, and while hotly breathing into his cottony ears, sending chills up his thready spine, I’d be massaging his nasty little double-stiched bottom…I’d sneakily bend my anxious fingers around his square-pants, rocking him forward over his hips, slowly, lovingly searching his body, fingering his beltline, gripping his stout waist, and dig my hungry thumbs into his gaping, gasping mouth -forcefully I’d plunge into him, with absolute abandon… deeper, harder…until I felt the warm, hard thing I was after…so silky, smooth, yet unyeilding when I grab hard and PULL IT OT! Yessss….yes, my sweet lover. There you are at last… My smuggled-in bottle of McNaughtons Bourbon Whisky, imported from Canada…you just can’t get that shit down here in Jersey, man…!

    So…Did I win yet?

  7. My Pajama Eater would probably have to eat the chocolate stash left after Christmas otherwise I´ll have to eat it all by myself :)

  8. I wonder if I can get a pajama eater big enough to cover the set of golf clubs that takes pride of place in our bedroom? Or at least eat all the golf balls??

    • Hahaha! Oh, I feel your pain, Shelley! I’ve tried to explain to The Man that women decorating with countless candles and vases and things is way different than crowding up the room with sports equipment and ball caps!

  9. Oh what a great idea! Iz loves to throw her pajamas around. Personally, I’d be tempted to keep it for myself as well. I’d love it in a Ravens football uniform or Terps Basketball uni if possible. My use for it would be to hold onto all the solo socks I find in the laundry so that I can go back and match them up later. I have so many solos in my drawer, I’ve taken to creating sock puppets with them. However, this little army I’ve amassed appears poised for a take over!

  10. I would love a pajama eater…and it would eat…my 3 yr olds jammies, her socks, shoes, shirts, pants, panties, small toys, noisy toys when I want some quiet time, nasty attitudes, back talking mouth, stomping feet…need I go on? She’s three and yes, I’d like for her to go in there sometimes as well as my husband when he’s getting on my nerves…oh and speaking of him…it can eat HIS socks he throws on the living room floor and HIS clothes he throws beside the bed. Can they eat the mail so I don’t have to deal with the junk stuff?

  11. So, so cute. I don’t have a child of my own who can own a pajama eater. Ooops–guess it will have to me. Gosh, darn! I will check out Super J’s blog and Etsy shop. You are such a good friend, Tori!
    Kathy

    • Kathy, I have a kid… and I’m STILL taking that cute little monster :) Super J is, well, super. She has been such a support and source of laughter for us when we desperately needed it. Something about trying to make friends with new folks for months in a new place makes you so grateful to finally meet someone that says “You’re crazy, but I like you. Let’s be friends”.

  12. I love this! They are so adorable. I would like one that eats socks (especially the single ones I find in the wash), tissues (dirty ones my daughter scatters around like paper weights), and dirt (of the ordinary dust and yuck variety). Yes, I probably need a small army of pajama eaters in my house.

  13. My pajama eater eats all my left socks, random puzzle pieces off the floor, and horseflies that buzz in the middle of the night and shouldn’t even be ALIVE in the winter.

  14. Legos. If the pajama eater could and would eat Legos so that I stop stepping on them and thus teaching Baylor a new swear word to try out on her teachers at her Christian preschool, that would be super helpful. So super cute!

  15. These are awesome! I would ask my pajama eater to eat all of my knitting supplies. Right now, I have random balls of wool ALL OVER THE PLACE, so a handy pajama eater would keep my stash in order. Crafty case for my crafty supplies! :)

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  17. OMG, these are adorable! And also a great deal. And also I wish I could go back to my own childhood and convince my Mom to buy me one of these in hope of not being a complete slob throughout the entire course of my childhood (though, to my defense, my model horses were immaculately organized at all times).

    Now we just need to find ten kids somewhere so I have an excuse to buy ten of these…

  18. Tori, I always thought it was, “Those who can’t, don’t!” Ooh, sorry, that’s my motto!

    I wonder if the pajama eater would hold Duke, for those times when he goes “crack dog” on us??

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