I Suppose That's Why They're Called "Slippers"

I took an unofficial poll of our families over Thanksgiving, and I asked them how they all felt about the crazy Target lady. I got mixed reviews. She is, apparently, very polarizing. Either you love her or hate her.
Me? I want to be her.
Those commercials crack me up. My favorite is the one where she's "training" for Black Friday... in her red workout suit and high heels. Cracks me up.
I think she's onto something with those shoes, because I discovered that "comfortable" shoes may not the best option for me.

My Facebook status from last night:

"A house isn't a home until momma falls down the stairs."

We spent our long Thanksgiving weekend with both families, eating until we could eat no more, and we drove home yesterday. 8 hours in pouring rain. I was happy to get some laundry started and to put on my bedroom slippers. The boy and I ate dinner in front of the TV; Dan/Daddy needed to go into work for a bit.

When he returned home, I heard the garage go up. My phone rang, and it was him... calling me from the garage. I answered the phone, but he didn't reply. I heard the garage go down. Then my phone rang again... and again it was him. I answered again and got no response.

At this point, I'm thinking several things:
1. My husband's sitting on his phone and it's calling me.
2. The downstairs door is locked and he can't get in.
3. The neighborhood cat has wandered into our garage again, and I need to help get him out.
4. My husband better not be prank calling me from the garage.

So I got up from my cozy spot and hurried to see what was going on.
The "hurrying" and the "slippers" did not make a good combination.
I made the first flight just fine, but then I rounded the corner and hit the top step of the 2nd flight.
The top step was all I ever saw. My feet - in their cozy slippers - flew right out in front of me, and I bounced the rest of the way down on my backside.
Every time I hit a step and bounced up again, I said a not-so-nice word.
3 or 4 bounces and bad words later, I landed at the bottom, Dan/Daddy came running in from the garage and the boy came down right behind me on the stairs.

I mumbled something about being ok, and the boy asked if he could laugh.
Dan/Daddy started fussing at me about being more careful and not wearing ratty bedroom slippers.
Can't you just feel the love?

They really were worried about me, but once they knew I was somewhat ok, they relaxed. Even I laughed. The boy reenacted the whole thing about 21 times.

In case you were wondering, it was #1. I rushed down the stairs and bruised my elbow, my left calf, my right butt cheek and my tailbone (again)...
All because my husband was sitting on his phone.

I may never answer his phone calls again, and he better buy me new slippers for Christmas.
I'll bet the crazy Target lady never falls down her steps.