There's nothing like climbing into bed on a cold winter night to the warm softness of flannel sheets. Every fall I pack away the smooth, cool cotton and switch everybody over to flannel. For some reason, this year I had forgotten all about it until today when Skippy mentioned that he had been cold last night. Well, he should be comfy tonight with his flannel, and a comforter in place of his thin summer quilt.
Even at eight years old, they're sweet when they're sleeping.
Pinkerbelle already had a down comforter, and she sleeps hot anyway and usually kicks all her covers off, so she might be a little too warm. Note the sleeves pushed up. But she wanted her flannel fairy sheets. It also appears that she was playing with a flashlight before she fell asleep.
As for the title of the post: at dinner we were reminiscing about the Christmas season the year Firstborn was two, and still an only child. Many evenings the three of us folded out the couch (we had one of those apartment couches that flip out into a bed), cuddled up in blankets, drank hot chocolate and watched Christmas shows, like Frosty and Rudolph. Firstborn called it getting "all wohm and tozy". Good times.