Boot slippers

Beckett has recently discovered and formed an attachment to these boots, which for much of the year sit in the space between our dresser and the bedroom wall, too warm to be worn. He likes to bring them over to me and will not give up until I relent and put them on. He laughs, walks away, and I promptly take them off, glad to remove my feet from their fake-fur-lined interiors.

It wasn't until about 3:30 this afternoon that I finally realized I was still wearing the boots he'd brought me this morning, which can only mean one thing — fall has finally arrived. Who needs PSLs? I've got snuggly boot slippers on my feet.