A couple of years ago, Sara asked me what I wanted for Christmas. “Soft slippers,” I said, thinking of how cold our house always is. I thought that was a pretty good suggestion, but Sara kept sending me links to slippers.
Sara: “Like these ones?”
Me: “No. Soft ones. Not ones that look like shoes, you know? Soft ones.”
Sara: “How about these?”
Me: “No, soft slippers!”
Sara: “THESE ARE MADE EXCLUSIVELY FROM THE SOFTEST BABY LAMBS WOOL, LAMBS THAT SUP ON ONLY MILK AND HAVE NEVER SEEN THE HARSH LIGHT OF THE SUN. THEY ARE HAND STITCHED BY MONKS USING HAIRS FROM A NEWBORN’S HEAD! THEY DO NOT MAKE SLIPPERS SOFTER THAN THIS!!”
Me: ::sigh:: “No, not these ones.”
Clearly I was failing to make myself clear in some way. So I spent some time googling around the Internet and finally came back.
Me: “Okay, I was using the wrong words, and that’s on me. Apparently the correct phrase is ‘Novelty Plush slippers‘.”
I happily showed her all the examples I found, like the ones that had a dangly, light-up, angler fish piece, and the ones that looked like Bigfoot feet, and the ones that made Godzilla stomping sounds when you walked. “SOFT SLIPPERS!” I crowed.
Sara argued vociferously that it didn’t make sense to buy cheap slippers that were ultimately going to fall apart, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and it was *my* Christmas present after all.
So in the end, the kids picked out some awesome tiger feet, and I loved them and wore them every minute. I lost track of the number of times I came to the door for a package or to let in a repair man or something and forgot they were on my feet. And yes, they were cheap and ultimately fell apart, even despite the massive amounts of bacon duct tape I tried to use to hold them together.
The following Christmas I REALLY, REALLY wanted to ask for a new pair of slippers but I didn’t dare, not after Sara had given me so much fuss about buying slippers that would last. So I just added another layer of duct tape and didn’t say anything. However, the FOLLOWING year, I figured I would be in the clear to ask for a new pair. Two years of every day use is respectable, right? But Sara was done with me and my soft slippers, and she declined to get me any.
Okay, fine, if you want something done right you’ve got to do it yourself. Except she did kind of get to me…did I really want to buy another pair of (awesome) slippers that would only last one (awesome) year? As much as I loved the tiger feet, they didn’t exactly fit, and, if I’m being totally honest, after all the stuffing leaked out of the bottom (we’re talking, like, day 2 here) they weren’t very comfortable to stand on the hardwood floor for any length of time.
On the other hand, I looked at all the “good” slippers and they were all, “no, no NO”. They just looked like shoes! Where was the dangly, light-up, angler fish thingy? Where were the Godzilla stomping sounds? Aren’t there any slippers out there for a respectable adult who wants some respectable, well-made, Novelty Plush slippers?
Well, after a long, long, LONG time I finally found a pair of slippers that weren’t too bad, which I watched like a hawk until they went on sale. I give you, my new Sorels:
Nice, warm, well made, soft…they were okay. They were fine. I guess. If you had to have slippers.
But they were still missing that certain je ne sais quoi…
Now THOSE are some nice slippers! 😍😍😍