Slippers

My husband has ghetto slippers he spent about a dollar fifty on in Buenos Aires. I know they were under three dollars because I bought two pairs of shoe each for that price. One pair doesn't really fit anymore, but the other pair I wear about a third of the Sundays of my life. Great deal considering I spent three bucks on them three years ago. They were nine in the Argentine currency in the poor part of town. Anyway, back to my husband's slippers-- they are ghetto. They are uncomfortable in my opinion, they feel like wearing cardboard boxes. He loves them, he calls them his Hugh Hefner slippers, why he thinks Hugh wears cardboard boxes is beyond me. They fall apart a couple of times each year, and he super glues them back together. Not only that when he glues them together they start to smoke, so I wonder what poisons they are giving us. The past time he glued them together was a few weeks ago. He put his foot back in them, and glued his toe to the slipper. I started laughing so hard, he knows I don't like the slippers. I told him I was going to blog about him gluing his toe to the slippers. Luckily he pulled his toe off quickly, so I didn't have to feel guilty for laughing so hard. (And no I don't feel bad about hating the slippers, there are plenty of things I wear that Brent doesn't like. I can tell when he doesn't like something, when I ask him about it, he responses saying, I don't care what you wear, you are the one that is going to have to look back at pictures and wonder what was I wearing. I say, nope, I'm going to look back and say man I was fashionable.)
By the way, his slippers have fake fur inside that is not soft, and blue fleece on top.