Two Christmases ago, I saw these fleece pajama pants and had to get them for #5:

Not bacon, but pretty awesome: Christmas candy skulls with candy cane crossbones. He loved them.

He still loves them.

He loves these heavy black fleece pajama pants, even in July.

He loves them even though since I bought them, he’s whined about being hungry and I’ve fed him and he’s grown. A lot. Even though I expressly forbade it.

He loves them even though I’m always threatening to throw them out.

He loves them, so they’re still here.

His Christmas Capris.