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They Matched.

posted Monday May 14th, 2012

We were both juggling hectic workdays, so the phone conversation was quick. And as it often is with my best-friend-from-second-grade, it was totally over-the-top.

“OK,” Amy said, “so I’m thinking about going to Mood and buying fabric and hiring a seamstress to make Sophie and me matching purple pajamas for our birthday sleepover.”

“Are you insane?!” I replied. At least, that’s what went through my head. Amy lives in New York City, so she has access to things like Mood (the fabric store made famous by Project Runway) and seamstresses, but still. Hand sewn pajamas and a trip across the country to wear them seemed a bit much for a 9th birthday present.

But Amy is perfectly capable of such an act. Actually, this would be nothing for a woman who once threw an East Indian-themed Thanksgiving dinner on the floor of her tiny apartment, and who’s been known to take off for all parts of the world at a moment’s notice. The day she left for college she called and sang, “I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane” with such gusto that to this day — decades later — I can’t hear that song without thinking of her.

I don’t remember the purple pajama conversation — after all, it took place an entire nine months ago, but Amy swears that back in September, the last time she was home for a visit, she’d promised Sophie a sleepover party for her birthday. (She knew she’d be home around Sophie’s birthday — which is next week – for her niece’s college graduation.)

And damned if she wasn’t going to find matching purple pajamas for the two of them.

“Hold on,” I said, pulling up target.com to look for a more reasonable option. Amy got on, too, and it was just like high school — only instead of picking through the underwear rack at Marshall’s, we were scrolling through pajama options from the comfort of our respective desks.

I found some cute Nick and Nora pajamas in Sophie’s size — purple and with cherries. Voila. And there was even a (sort of) matching nightshirt in the adult section.

I sent Amy the links, then held the phone a foot from my ear as she yelled that this simply would not do. “That nightshirt is white! This is a purple pajama sleepover party! We have to match!” 

Sufficiently chastized, I gave up. Only Amy Segal would honor a 9-month-old promise of this sort. Sure enough, last night she showed up on our doorstep with gift-wrapped, matching purple pajamas (“I Heart New York” tee shirts, perfect!) in hand. She’d even found an Olivia the Pig stuffed animal wearing a bathrobe. And matching pink, furry purses for both Sophie and Annabelle.

“FAO Swartz to the rescue!” she announced, grabbing a peach and plopping down at the kitchen table.  

Sophie was enchanted. I might have forgotten their plan, but she remembered every detail. She sat on Amy’s lap and made her tell the story over and over again, of how many months ago, Sophie invited Amy to her purple pajama sleepover birthday party and how Amy said, “Well, Sophie, I’m not sure I can be there on that day, but no matter what, I’ll come to Arizona and the two of us will have a special purple pajama sleepover party together.”

And then Amy (again) took her finger and traced the path she’d drawn on Sophie’s birthday card, of a plane flying allllll the way across the country from New York City to Phoenix.

The two of them took over the living room. Sophie thought it would be a good idea if they shared one couch, but Amy (and I) drew the line at that, so after a quick cuddle Sophie stretched out nearby and slept all the way til 6 before climbing back in with Amy, which is how I found them this morning.

There was no cake or ice cream or candles, no pinata or games (except a few rounds of Go Fish) and the celebration ended abruptly when it was time for school.

But I have a feeling it was the best birthday party Sophie’s ever had.

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Tags: Filed under: birthday parties by Amysilverman

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