“I ’m ordering matching Christmas pajamas,” said my daughter Stephanie on the phone. “We’ll take pictures!” This was a selling point? Stephanie had called me a couple days earlier to invite me to spend the night with her family on Christmas Eve. She’d tried to lure me with apple cider, a holiday movie, waking up to presents under the tree. I’d already told her no. Same as I’d done the year before.
“I have enough pajamas, and I certainly don’t want pictures of me in my PJs ending up on Facebook,” I said. “Besides, I refuse to be a burden.”
My husband had
