Pain, thy name be Slipper Socks.

If you haven't fallen down the stairs lately, you may have forgotten just how badly it hurts to land bottom side down on the edge of a wooden step. My tailbone won't be able to forget for at least the next week.

I knew the slipper socks were a bad idea as soon as I spotted them at Old Navy. All stripey cuteness but two sizes too big. I reasoned with myself, that slippers don't really have to fit, I mean I won't be going in public with them and maybe, JUST maybe, the extra space would generate more heat (?) and keep my toes extra warm. Not exactly the type of thinking that can get a girl into Harvard, but it worked. I went home with canoe sized slipper socks.

As predicted they are super comfortable, but so big that in order to wear them properly the heel sits somewhere around my calf. It looks ridiculous, but my toes have been kept warm for weeks. In retrospect, I probably should have put them away as soon as the cat started attacking my feet in a bid to eat the dangling pom-pom's. A rational person would have saved their legs the abuse, but as we learned earlier, rational thinking isn't exactly my forte'.

The "accident" occurred last night. After putting the kids to bed I looked down and realized my feet appeared to be 3 feet long. As I walked my feet were sloshing around in the slippers (AKA canoes of death) like melted ice cubes in a cooler. In the ultimate act of laziness I decided to forgo pulling them up and headed for the stairs. I made it all the way down and then as I hit the first wooden step on the landing my world turned upside down.

I'm sure it was just a matter of me falling straight on my arse, but in my mind I did a Triple Salchow good enough to make Brian Boitano cry. As my tailbone found the edge of the stair it was a "CRACK" heard round the world.. Pain I haven't felt the likes of erupted from my butt in wave after wave of misery. And instead of screaming or cursing (my usual modus operandi where pain is involved) I actually thought "I'm alright! I'm OK. I'm alright, I'm OK" It's a technique I honed (much to my sisters chagrin) while in labor with my first daughter and it hasn't failed me yet!

So, what did we learn today? Buy slippers that fit or pull them before attempting to walk anywhere near or around stairs. And secondly, I'm an idiot.