Here I am, sitting at my computer in my lovely red slippers, blogging away. In the past year, we've adopted a noshoesinthehouse policy, spurred on in part by becoming chicken owners (let's not wear the shoes we just mucked around in in the coop when we get inside, m'kay?) and in part by my ever-increasing obsession with gross stuff not being in my house. Now listen, folks. I realize we live in a society where shoesinthehouse is the norm...but sit back and think about it for sec. That's right, really think about it. Those shoes that you trek all over the sidewalk in (which, for some reason that is completely beyond me, is a place that many people deem appropriate for their spittle), the shoes that you wore into the bathroom in the mall, the shoes that maybe, just maybe came into contact with bird poo/chewing gum/the pee of some animal when you walked to the post office (because I know you walk to the post office rather than driving there in your car). I realize that I'm not the best barometer of ick-factors (as Andrew will often remind me after I'm done freaking out about the 10 crumbs left on the kitchen counter), but for the love of scrapple, can we please all just agree that shoes do not belong on feet when those feet are inside the house?!
OK, I should mention that when I say that "we" have adopted a noshoesinthehouse policy, I really mean that "I" went nutso about it one day and because I live with The Most Patient Man in the world, he dutifully wears his slippers (at least when I'm looking). While love trumps most crazy quirks, friendship is a different story and I've been finding it difficult to look my guests in the eye while saying: "Hi! I'm so happy you are here...come in...after taking off your shoes....uh-huh, really...you can put them here...(awkward silence)...sorry I don't have an extra pair of slippers..." And I'm pretty sure that asking people to take their shoes off at the door is where Andrew will draw the limit. He'll take his own shoes off and not complain, but I think when it comes to our guests, the ball's in my court.
What to do?
Enter: Amy Karol of Angry Chicken fame to solve my problems in one clever mail order. Hello?! A pattern for house slippers so that I can actually give something to my guests so their holey socks don't have to show AND two signs to hang on the door explaining, quite politely, that a neurotic woman and her tolerant boyfriend live here and please leave your germy shoes at the door thankyouverymuch?!?!
If there are just two things I can impress upon you today, please adopt a noshoesinthehouse policy NOW (like right this second!) and go here and make up some house slippers!!