Sunday, March 20, 2011

It was bound to happen eventually.

We have wood floors in our house.  I can't say they're hardwood floors, because Hubby has a cow every time I do.  They're pine planks, so they're not a hardwood.  And 120+ years old.  And prone to slivering on occasion.  And extremely prone to snagging socks.  And tracked-out kitty litter just migrates around the house.

So I wear slippers around the house.  For three purposes.  One, I hate having kitty litter get stuck to my bare feet.  Or even my socked feet.  Two, wood floors in the winter are cold.  And my bad ankle really hates cold.  And three, I'm tired of my socks getting snagged.  I love my fun socks.  (I have a vast collection.)

I originally bought the slippers back in December of 2009, because I needed to have something to wear on my feet other than my snow boots during the Christmas Eve service at church.  (They did not go with my dress, despite both of them being black.)  My auto accident (cause of the aforementioned bad ankle) was only five months prior, and I still couldn't wear much of anything other than sneakers with an air cast.  There was no way I could even wear dress shoes. was the Christmas Eve service.  It's really important.  I was heavily involved.  I couldn't wear jeans.  So I had to find something I could tolerate for an hour, and would let me wear a simple black ankle brace.

Found!  One pair of black ballet slippers, with little off-white bows that I wasn't thrilled with, but then, beggars can't be choosers, and I didn't have time (or ankle ability) to look for anything else.

It's now to the point where I'm so used to wearing them that I have actually walked out on the porch before realizing I need to go back in and put on my sneakers.

It was inevitable that, some day, I was going to go out in them, completely forgetting that these are house-dwelling slippers.

Today was that day.

We were in our usual Sunday morning rush to get out the door and get the kids in the car.  I grabbed my cane and followed along, stopping at one point to check why it felt like the cane was too tall (it's supposed to come up to about my hip joint).  It was set at the right spot, so I shrugged it off and kept going.
See?  Fun socks.

I didn't even notice until I got to the church and hopped out into the parking lot...which didn't feel right.

I looked down.

I was still wearing my slippers.

I suppose it could be worse.

I could have been wearing these, like Jill Shalvis wore out of the house.  (Sorry, Jill!)

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