Comfy Household Footwear

My latest excursion along the road of domesticity and (apparent) normality now sit at the end of my legs in the shape of a pair of slippers (haven't got the pipe yet, just the slippers).
The presentation of the slippers is to stop me being permanently attached to my boots, and to "stop all this shit from getting on the carpet".

Slippers?  Haven't had a pair of slippers since I was about 9.  The wearing of comfy household footwear has been eschewed since that time.  Now with these things on my feet, I feel like I'm turning into my dad.
(Or in the words of Henry Priestman: "I'm the same age as my father was when I first thought he was old").

According to my family, I am grumpy, moany, cantankerous and annoying (my best features I think), and have been "an old git" for several years (when I turned 40, my brother said to me "you've now grown into your age").

Eventually, you have to accept the situation around you, you can't exist in a state of continual adolescence (can't you? well, I'm trying to).

I now find myself with the trappings of a "normal" 42 year old, middle class bloke:

• Semi-Detached House in suburbia, with a Conservatory
• 2 Cars (1 for me, 1 for the wife)
• Teenage Kids
• Dogs

Fortunately, I have avoided some of the other things that my immature mind attaches to "other peoples normality":

• DIY as a hobby
• an interest in gardening
• Golf
• Drinking Wine, and commenting upon the aromas and taste sensations experienced.

No offence to anyone, but I'm glad this song doesn't summarise my existence.
It is perhaps a manifesto for things to avoid in life, thus allowing you to cling to the last remnants of teenage (middle-age?) rebellion:

Half Man Half Biscuit - Paintballs Coming Home

And the Slippers?

Comfy and warm they are, and I quite like wearing them.
Just got to remember to change them before I go out - otherwise I could find myself shuffling around the streets of Reading looking like a bit of a tramp ("whats new?" says the Mrs)

Cockney Rejects - Flares & Slippers