My favorite Christmas present

If anybody spends an extraordinary amount of time with me they soon notice my one (out of many) peculiarity:

I have an addiction to slippers.

There. I said it. That's the first step, right?

When I'm at home, I have my slippers on. I've been known to sleep with them on, mostly while sleeping on the couch. I get quite distraught when I lose one for the slightest second. I get frantic when people hide them from me. I take them to my in-laws house. My MIL has suggested I buy two pairs and just keep one at her house. I once took them to Olive Garden with a group of friends.*

I thought this obsession started when Carl and I lived in our first apartment. It was student housing, with that tile carpet floor. Meaning, no padding underneath the floor. My feet were uncomfortable walking sock-footed on the floor, so I started wearing my slippers all the time.

Recently, a good friend from college sent me a picture of me at Christmas. And there I was, wearing my slippers. That surprised me. I didn't remember wearing my slippers all the time, but there was proof. This made me think long and hard about my slippers. And I remembered when I would take my slippers to work.

Before you start thinking I'm completely nutso, let me explain. I worked at a pool, lifeguarding. This meant wearing flip-flops all the time, even in the winter. This wasn't too bad while I was lifeguarding, but in the lifeguard room it was freezing. This room was only connected to the building by one wall, so had three walls right next to the howling winds of Utah County in the winter. And these three walls were mostly windows.

As you can imagine, this room was quite cold. Which is why I brought my slippers to work. It was much warmer getting back from guarding and being able to put my slippers on my frozen feet, wrap up in a blanket, and try to get some homework done.

I will admit that I am much more attached to my slippers now. I go through a pair a year. Usually, by Christmas, the current pair is trashed. Most of the time, the only thing I can think of to ask for for Christams is a new pair of slippers. Carl knows that if he just gets me a pair, I'm happy.

You're probably wondering what brought this post on. My slippers are starting to die. One side of the right slipper has split open, with the padding hanging out. Soon, I'll have to duct tape it shut. Last year, I think, I sewed them back together. Maybe it's time for me to start getting slippers on my birthday and on Christmas.



*In my defense, I was at Colleen's and she dropped me off at Olive Garden, where I met Carl and our friends. So, I shoved the slippers in my purse. Makes sense, right?