Cold feet

I have got cold feet.

Not metaphorically, although I have had my moments, but literally. My feet are like blocks of ice.

It's always been the same. When I was a little girl, I had a pair of bed socks knitted by my Great Aunt. They were quite an astonishing garment; they were a deep magenta with a wide holey pattern and the laces (yes, laces) were also made from a strand of wool. The most wonderful characteristic of these beauties (or booties) is that they had the dimensions of a mans size 10 and swamped my little girly feet, making me look like I had raided Coco the Clowns sock drawer. Having said all that and sounding very ungrateful, I wore them every night to keep my blocks of ice a little nearer to luke warm.

So, you see, slippers and bed socks have always been crucial in my life. I can't bear cold feet and more importantly with a new baby, I can't sleep with cold feet. This physiological anomaly leads to an annual search for a new pair of slippers. And for some reason it always occurs out of slipper season. Usually, the only slippers available are maribou feathered mules which are only suitable for 70s boudoirs or furry boots which are great in deepest winter.

This year I have found an added criteria in my search. I need slippers that are not in any way a trip hazard. I have currently got a pair of sloppy, backless slippers which looked really lovely when new (I have managed to wreck them). They are white, fluffy ones with little coloured hearts on them and my mum and dad bought them for me when I was in hospital with the new baby. These poor old things are only six months old, but have reached the end of the line. But, they are also guilty of the greatest sin imaginable; I tripped over in them while holding the baby. It was my own fault actually, I was fiddling with my slippers and managed to trip over my own feet, but still, they were relegated immediately to the back doormat like a naughty schoolgirl caught cheating in a maths test. The baby and I were fine, but it gave me a bit of a shock.

So, the search for new slippers began.

I looked high and low. Well, on the ground floor and first floor of the shopping centre. I discovered a few options, but they are either backless and there is a potential trip factor to consider or a slipper more suited to a slightly older lady or slipper socks in the sale left over from Christmas or they didn't have my size. I tried Next, Dorothy Perkins, John Lewis..... The nearest I came was a pair of bunny slippers in JL, but 1. they were fifteen pounds and 2. they were BUNNY slippers. I like a bunny and they were cute, but I was after something I can answer the door in without being given a funny look by the postman.  Eventually, I went to TK Maxx. It's not my normal haunt, but I needed to try a different approach in my hunt. And they had a few options. Not many, but a couple.

Now, the slippers I bought are not what I was aiming for. In fact, they are far from it. In fact, every time I look at them I cringe slightly, but I don't care. I was a woman on the edge. On the edge of having permanently cold feet. It couldn't carry on, so I paid my six pounds and went on my way. So far, they have done their job well and my feet are of an acceptable temperature. But, from now on, I will buy slippers in slipper season. In fact, I may go as far as to put slippers on my Christmas list. Oh no, does this mean I have become a grown up? Surely it can't be. Oh well, as long as I have got warm feet, I can cope with anything.