First Name, Last Name s4

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First name, Last name

Molly Tenenbaum

English 101

2 May 2016

My Mythical Slippers

It’s eight in the morning, and—miraculously—Baby Olivia isn’t awake yet. I turn off the baby monitor in my bedroom, drink the last of my water, and slip out of bed. I take my morning trip to the bathroom. I slip my feet into my fuzzy magical unicorn slippers, and I head out to the kitchen to start my coffee. I step onto the vinyl floor—squeak—and make my way—squeak—to the coffee pot—squeak. By the time I press the button, Olivia is awake. My cute, cuddly unicorn slippers have failed me yet again. But while they may not be ideal, I still adore them.

So what does a person look for in an ideal pair of slippers? The slippers should say something about the person wearing them. The ideal slippers are quiet when you walk around in them in the morning or late at night. They had better be comfy and keep your feet at a cozy warm temperature. And what pair of slippers wouldn't be easy to slip on and off? Most importantly, the ideal pair of slippers will protect the wearer by preventing falls and by having a tough sole for quick trips outside.

A good pair of slippers, like any footwear, will make a statement about the wearer. They might be a favorite color or a pattern like tie dye or paisley. They could range in size and plushness. One can wear any shape she likes. My fuzzy unicorn slippers say a good deal about me. I read fantasy books the way Olivia devours her dinner. I daydream about magical fantasy worlds. And clearly I am a woman of exquisite style. My cutesy unicorn slippers reveal something about my personality, as an ideal pair of slippers should. Last Name 2

My slippers may be cute, but they are not quiet. A person normally wears her slippers when getting ready for, or up from, bed. The ideal slippers wouldn’t make a sound. No one wants to hear that obnoxious squeak when she’s tired or still waking up. Even more importantly, no one wants to wake up the sleeping baby with squeaky slippers. My unicorn slippers possess a textured sole that sticks to the ground when I walk. Every step through the kitchen and bathroom with their vinyl flooring causes a squelchy sound like the creaking of a floorboard. It’s not a loud sound, but it irks.

My unicorns are not just squeaky; they are also not very comfortable. A good pair of slippers keeps one’s feet at the perfect temperature by allowing for a small amount of air flow around the toes. They are soft and fit to the form of the foot. My slippers are halfway there: the plush unicorn heads meld to my feet as if embracing them with warm magic. Unfortunately, they fit so tight that my feet mostly just end up too hot. In winter, this fit maintains my feet at a comfortable temperature. In summer, my poor toes start to burn as if they were immersed in a bath of boiling water. I can’t wear these slippers for long without fear of overheating.

Fitting so snugly on my feet as they do, my unicorn slippers are actually quite easily worn. Like the ideal pair of slippers, they slip on and off without much effort; at the same time, I feel confident that they won’t run the risk of slipping off. After all, no one wants to lose a slipper halfway to the bathroom on a cold night. The snug fit of my slippers—while keeping my feet too warm—prevents my slippers accidentally slipping off at an inopportune time.

Above all, slippers should provide a marginal protection to the wearer’s feet. Slippers, obviously, won’t be as protective as a pair of tennis shoes or boots, but they should at least be sufficient to protect one’s feet on quick trips outside with the dog or the trash. My unicorn slippers do a decent job of this. They are equipped with a rough, bumpy surface on the sole to Last Name 3 ensure that they don’t slide across the vinyl floor. This surface keeps me from falling and protects me from myself. However, an ideal slipper would have a more firm sole. This would ensure that the feet would be shielded from injury by sharp rocks—or whatever else is laying around waiting to be stepped on. Once again, my unicorn slippers only make it halfway to ideal.

Some might say that my unicorn slippers belong in the trash, or they might say that my slippers were a waste of good money. Maybe they wonder who in their right mind would wear a pair of giant plush unicorn slippers. Perhaps they think that I should go buy myself some slippers that align more closely with the ideal pair. At the very least, I should get some that don’t squeak.

I know that my unicorn slippers aren’t perfect. I didn’t expect them to be, because nothing in life is. If I were to go out shopping for a new pair of slippers, I might find the most comfy pair in the world with no personality. Or maybe I would find a pair even cuter than my unicorn ones, but they wouldn’t fit snugly and keep my feet warm. The squeaking could be a good thing. It always makes me laugh to myself; plus, I can’t surprise anyone. And anyway, who cares what my slippers look like? I’m the only one who will ever see them!

I love my unicorn slippers, even with all their imperfections. The slippers squeak, they keep my feet warm a little too well, and they don’t have the most solid sole. But even with all these flaws, they still achieve the basic goal of a slipper: they are cute, mostly comfy, easy to put on and take off, and keep me from slipping. When I wear them, I feel the magic of the mythical unicorn embracing my feet. Olivia gets a kick out of them when I wiggle my feet and grunt,

“Unicorn!” in a high pitched voice. I’ve even caught her munching on one of the horns. She and

I both love my unicorn slippers, and everyone deserves to have a pair of slippers that they love.

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