Warm Feet

An occupational hazard of living in our stylish ceramic-floored apartment is that your feet get cold if they are unclothed. To combat this I have worn through a succession of fluffy slippers from IKEA. Alas, the most recent set have been crushed by my immense weight to about 5mm, and now have the insulating capacity of a cornflake box. Our most recent trip to IKEA was fruitless in terms of finding replacements.

I've been getting quite anxious about my cold feet as winter draws on, to the extent that I've been looking in other shops for slippers of any kind. To no avail.

Imagine my delight then, when BetterArf returned home this evening, bearing a gift. This gift was in a huge plastic bag, such as you might need if you had bought a 42-inch plasma-screen television or suchlike. I was invited to close my eyes and stick a hand in for a feel. It didn't take me long to discern that the bag contained a slipper of immense proportions, and to guess that it probably contained two of the blighters, for BetterArf is not one to do things by halves, as it were.

Cool, not, yes? I have to walk like John Wayne did when he'd just got off his hoss, otherwise the slippers bump into each other and I fall over. But hey, I have warm feet again!