Slippers…warm and fuzzy or frightening weapons in the hands of an expert?

In other news (not related to my Big C problem)….just a little bit ago (give or take a year or five) I was on the phone with one of my closest friends, Marie (names have been changed to protect the innocent blogging bystanders), and we were discussing the usual bits and pieces of our busy lives while trying to squeeze it into a child approved 20-minute conversation. Now those of you with children will understand that 20 minutes of phone time is a precious and rare commodity and those of you without children can use this knowledge as another form of birth control. I love my children. I love my children. I love my children. I repeat this mantra often. Like when fighting with my three year old about why underwear is not optional attire.

So it was during the course of this quick chat session that the subject of children arose. Of course how could it not when one of her three offspring was hollering in the back insisting that discussing Yo Gabba Gabba was of paramount importance. Apparently this particular episode involved the meaning of life.

As we already know the meaning of life this interruption was entirely unnecessary.

Therefore a very heated debate broke out between parent and offspring. Marie won by default because DJ Lance was now discussing why Muno looks like a dildo, how that relates to intelligent design and children’s television…the offspring were now thoroughly engrossed. She heaved a sigh and said with relief (hmmm or was it disappointment?) “At least I did not need to throw the slipper”.

Slipper you say? Well if you are of Latin decent, as my friend and I both are, you have been ingrained with the mortal fear of the chancleta, or in laymen’s terms, the SLIPPER. Yes! The fuzzy kind you put on your foot. Looking at one, you would think, this small harmless item? You fear slippers?

Well yes. Yes I do. You see in the hands of a professional this small incongruous item can be wielded with more deadly force than the sharpest Chinese star. Hundreds of Latin children everywhere are terrified of slippers. It is these children grow into adults, grown-ups that although we may hide the scars inflicted from various chancleta run ins, we still bleed inside…and twitch. If you look carefully you can see a Latino/Latina start twitching at the sight of a slipper. I know I do. Often.

In my house whenever one of us three girls got out of line my father yelled. That in itself was scary. On rare occasions my father pretended to remove his belt, which at 120 lbs was not too threatening ( believe me I have seen threads more threatening than his belt). Of course my father never really did anything with the belt but man could he yell! However to be totally honest, it was my mother we feared. As my sister was kind enough to point out, my mom’s slippers were not really fuzzy, more hard and leathery (I think I am starting to twitch…oh the horror!)

My mother was a three time gold medalist chancleta thrower. Kind of like discus I suppose, only lighter and you aim at children. And when you aim and find your mark, the sting that results from that throw can last for hours. You learn from that whack two things, one you better shut up and do as you’re told, and two, if you don’t your mother still has a slipper left on the other foot. A truly good chancleta thrower knows to throw the slipper just so that it acts like a fuzzy boomerang…it you hit the child just right, it will rebound off the body and come back to land neatly in your hand. This is definitely a skill to be admired and feared, as the arsenal of slippers is never ending. Trust me I learned the hard way to listen to the threats of my mother…

Now my point here, (not that there ever really is one) is this slipper wielding is apparently handed down from generation to generation. My friend proudly boasts that if aimed correctly she can hit two kids with one slipper throw. (I am suitably impressed) She is currently practicing on getting three at once… (Of which I think even my mother would be impressed) Of course she still has time to improve; her youngest is only 6 months old. According to Marie, she has learned that slippers are more effective deterrents than 10 time outs, 2 punishments and 8 threats. She asked me if I use it on my children…. but alas, I do not.

Why? I don’t wear slippers (they still scare me). But recently I have been thinking of starting, maybe cute little bunny ones. I could start with baby steps…And then everyone will wonder why my children have a fear of flying bunnies! Now wouldn’t that make for some interesting conversations with their future therapists?

Hmmm…Yes, I am definitely thinking of wearing slippers and maybe just maybe I will ask Marie for techniques~

Catch you all on the flip…friends, folks and followers! =) And perhaps my next blog will be…the awe inspiring plastic spoon…

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. rebecca2000
    Jan 07, 2013 @ 18:46:38



  2. Kathy
    Jan 10, 2013 @ 11:08:10

    Once my husband made a sarcastic remark about my cooking. I don’t cook. I don’t like to cook. I don’t have time to cook these days. But a few years ago when my husband and I were working the same schedule we shared the responsibility of cooking dinner. Since I hate cooking but did it anyway, I didn’t appreciate his remark, so I threw an ice cube at him. I didn’t throw it hard and my aim is really bad, but it hit his arm and actually nicked him. My son will never let me forget the day I threw an ice cube at Dad and cut his arm. 🙂


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