A simple question for my readers: is it unmanly to own a pair of slippers?
At the moment in Melbourne it is officially cold. As cold as I can remember it being. As cold as a hair on a polar bear’s arse. As cold as a mother-in-law’s kiss (sorry Pam). As cold as a witch’s tit. You get the picture.
Anyway, these last few nights, the cold has been rising up through our floating floorboards, and my feet, clad only in thin socks, have been freezing. Frostbite material. (Think Mr Deeds and the fire poker. “The hideousness of that foot will haunt my dreams forever, sir”).
I mentioned casually to Wakes that perhaps I needed to get a pair of slippers. After all, she is never, ever seen indoors without her slippers.
She thought the idea of me buying my own pair was hilarious. ‘Let’s go to K-Mart this very instant, before you change your mind!’ There was much jocularity and suggestions of the types of slippers I might purchase.
So now I’m in a quandry. Do I put up with cold feet, or do I run the gauntlet of wifely torment, and buy myself some nice, warm, comfy, slippers? What sort should I get? Will it make me less of a man?
Over to you readers, and please, be gentle.