Bunny Slippers December 9, 2008
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
When this week’s temperatures dropped into the single digits, I knew it was time to bring out the big guns: the bunny slippers.
I spend most of the workday in front of a computer, not moving around much. Even with the heat on, my hands and feet get cold (I don’t suffer to the extent that Sweet Rocket Susan does, but it’s enough to notice). Often I’ll keep a space heater by my feet. But this quickly jacks up the electricity bill and doesn’t help as much as one might think.
Enter the bunny slippers.
Last December, Tim and I drove south to see family and friends, including Bill and Susan, friends from our DC days. It turned out to be a magical 24 hours, the kind of visit during which it feels like we’ve never been apart, but also, how could we ever choose to be?
Susan was laughing over a few Christmas presents she had received from a well-meaning friend, trying to decide what to do with some of them. Bill mentioned in particular the horror of the bunny slippers. Susan explained that the bunny slippers were the kind with the microwaveable buckwheat-and-lavender sole inserts. Rip open the Velcro™, pull out the little bundles, microwave two minutes, slip them back in, et voilà! Instant foot warmth.
Susan said she loved them, but she couldn’t walk comfortably with the lumpy inserts. They weren’t practical.
Bill was peeved that bunny slippers had managed to make their way into his home. He begged me to take them away. Actually, it was more like an order.
I could just manage to get my feet into them, so home with me they went.
They look like this:
They work. The direct heat is much better than my space heater, and the energy savings is incredible.
But Susan’s right: These boots ain’t made for walkin’. And the wearing of them is not for public consumption.
Route 153 
You’re so good — I jack up the heat in my office. (although the house stays a cool 50 during the day).
I need something like that…I’m tired of the cold feet and hands while the rest of me burns up under the electric blanket phenomenon.
I was just looking through my memories box for bad haircut pictures. I came across a picture of myself when I was really young holding my beloved pink poodle. I wish I still had him so I could send him to you. He could have helped you hunt for your slippers if you ever misplaced them.
So do you ever accidently go to the door still wearing the bunny slippers?
In the stage version of Torch Song Trilogy, Arnold wore bunny slippers constantly. Big, floppy ones. His apartment was decorated in bunnies from top to bottom, and there were bunny slippers of various sizes and re-purposings (like as carpet protectors for heavy furniture). When Harvey Fierstein signed the book of his play for me after the matinee, his signature had bunny ears.
All of which has nothing to do with warmth, of course, or Buffy’s “Once More With Feeling,” but bunnies have a way of pulling one off-subject.
Helen: Aaaaw.
Mali: It’s never happened. It’s truly hard to walk in them. (And we have few unannounced guests!)
Craig: As do your own personal Harvey Fierstein stories.
Those boots weren’t meant for walking. They were meant for hopping! Try it, and you’ll see how much better they work. You should always listen to your animals. Am tempted to ring your doorbell and peek in the door to see you hopping down the staircase.
I had penguin slippers. Cold on the outside. Warm on the inside.