Pajama Day Goes Spooky
On Thursday night, Rosy stood in the middle of her bedroom with her hands on her hips. Tomorrow was pajama day at school. She had never worn pajamas to school before, and that made the choice feel as big as a pumpkin.
She pulled open a drawer. Out came the pumpkin pajamas, orange and smiling. "Perfect," Rosy whispered. Then she looked at the bottom of the pile and frowned. There was the pumpkin bottom, but no top. Only one half of the pumpkin had come to the party.
"Okay," said Rosy, using her detective voice. "A top does not just walk away." She tapped her chin. Last time she wore them, she had been reading a bat book. She had been on the rug, and then on the bed, and then somewhere in between.
Rosy got down on her knees and studied the room like a map. There were two good hiding places. One was the dark gap beneath the bed. The other was the closet, with its door half open and its shadows folded up inside.
A flashlight sat on her nightstand. Rosy clicked it on and held it tight. The beam wobbled across the floor, across the quilt, and across the paper bats that swung gently above her. It was time to search.
Rosy slid the closet door open and swept the flashlight over her hanging clothes. A sleeve swayed and made her jump, and then she giggled at herself. On the floor sat a heap of laundry, and a white fluffy corner stuck out of it.
She dug into the heap like a puppy. Socks flew. A scarf flew. Up came the ghost pajamas, soft and floppy, with their two round eyes. Rosy hugged them. She had forgotten how much she loved them, too.
Now Rosy had a puzzle. She had the pumpkin bottom, and she had the whole ghost set. She spread them side by side on her quilt. Both were spooky. Both were warm. Her stomach gave a small, hungry grumble.
She padded to the kitchen for a snack, still thinking. The yellow lamp glowed over the table. Rosy ate apple slices and said her choices out loud, like a small speech to nobody. The apples were crunchy, and the answer was nearly there.
Back in her room, Rosy got into bed with both pajamas folded on the chair, and the flashlight off. She listened to the quiet. Tomorrow she would walk into school in her pajamas, and she wanted to feel brave and a little bit silly.
In the morning, the sun came in gold through the window. Rosy sat up and knew exactly what she wanted. She jumped out of bed, ready to decide, and her feet hit the round rug with a soft thump.
Rosy stood in front of the chair, looking at the orange pumpkin bottom and the white ghost set. She took a deep breath. It was only pajamas, but it felt like choosing a whole costume. She reached out her hand.
Rosy chose the pumpkin bottom and shook out the ghost's hood to wear with it. A pumpkin ghost! She pulled everything on, orange below and fluffy white above. At the school hallway, kids pointed and giggled. "What are you?" one asked.
"I'm a Pumpkin Boo," said Rosy proudly. Mrs. Pim came down the hall in her blue-striped pajama pants and clapped. "Best idea today!" she said. Rosy beamed, warm inside her fluffy hood.
Then Rosy felt something in the ghost pocket. She pulled out a tiny orange pumpkin sticker, stuck on a note from last Halloween: a smile drawn in crayon. Past Rosy had left herself a surprise, and it was the perfect finishing touch.
