I’m a slippers and gown type of girl. It’s my favourite outfit really. I have, on a few occasions, noticed that I’m out, but still have my slippers on.
This means that, quite regularly, I have to throw my slippers in the wash. I’m quite good at hurling shoes into the washing machine. I have a friend who puts her trainers in the dishwasher. Also acceptable.
My lovely man is often in charge of emptying the washing machine and either hanging up the relevant, or putting it in the dryer. Shoes, for various reasons, are not for the dryer.
The last slipper load, somehow, slipped (did you see what I did there?) past his vigilance and some hours later I was presented with a much smaller version of my very adored sheepskin Uggs. They were dry and lovely and warm. And very little.
Luckily your feet are small he announced, these will be fine.
They are not fine, they are now baby slippers. Toddler size at best.
Well, he said, I’m waiting to read about this online, at least I give you good material.
Gotta love him. The knob.
But you still love him.
I do so