It’s been a year and 2 months, roughly 14 months, almost exactly 1 year, 2 months, and 2 days depending on if you consider the day that you start counting day 1 or day 0. No matter which way you want to count it, it’s been a while since I brought this up here. Why does one shoelace always come untied while you’re walking? Or sometimes even just sitting. Of course, if that happens while you are sitting, I suppose it really matters on how actively you sit that could determine just how often “sometimes” might be. Or is it just me?

Surely you remember the quandary I expressed those 429 days ago (or 428). If not, allow me to summarize. Both feet are going the same place and at the same pace. Both shoes and both laces are made of the same materials. The temperature and humidity at my left foot are pert near identical to those at my right. All things being equal, why aren’t the laces? Why does one shoelace always untie itself? And in my case, it’s always the left shoe. With one exception.

This might be why I started thinking about this all over again. That one exception is with my newest pair of footwear, which actually are slippers. (Is slippers?) (Hmm) Yeah, yeah, go ahead and question it. Why do slippers even have laces? In the world of are you a “shoe person” or a “socks or barefoot person” at home. (Bare feet?) (Bare foot?) (No, barefoot but definitely with no space.) (Whew!) And yes, feel free to question that also, although I can assure you that a detailed examination of this hypothesis revealed that the vast majority (over 50% at least) of those questioned answered one or the other. (Now where was I?) (Oh yes…) In the world of are you a “shoe person” or a “socks or barefoot person” at home, I fall squarely in the center. (Middle?) (Center?) I fall right in between. I am a “slipper person.” (Or “slippers person” if you prefer.)

I have several pairs of slippers. (several pair?) (Whatever!) I have my “nighttime walk around the house when I can’t sleep slippers.” I have my “to and from the shower so I don’t get the carpet all wet slippers.” And now I have my “wear during the day at home but look more like casual shoes but are actually slippers for a little more formal look slippers.” (I see where this post is starting to get a little personal but at least I can say I don’t have any “these are really too racy to discuss in public slippers” so you can be comfortable sticking around for the rest of the story if there are children (or not) about (or around).) And that’s how I came to have slippers with laces. Faux laces because they really don’t do anything but sit there and look lacy. (Not that kind of lacy. I said this post wasn’t racy and if it was racy lacy I wouldn’t have even brought it up.) And those are the exception. If you’ve forgotten what they are the exception to, please feel free to go back and re-read the first, no second paragraph. (I did.)

So among the shoes with laces that untie the left foot (left shoe?) (left foot shoe?) themselves… So among the shoes with laces that all by themselves untie the shoe that goes on the left foot, there is one exception, those slippers, and they untie both left and right foot. (Feet?) It totally defeats the purpose of getting slippers that look like shoes (sort of) when you end up walking around with your slippers (that look like shoes) untied. Like how is that formal? The only thing I can think of that looks less formal is walking around in a tuxedo with your left shoelace untied. (And those little waxed laces they put on shoes they expect you to wear with your tux are the worst! (worse?) (worst!)) (Hahaha. I just thought of something funny. There really are places that expect you in formal wear that let me in! Sometimes even by invitation!!) (Heeheehee)

Anyway, If anybody has any hints as to how you keep your shoelaces from untying themselves, please feel free to comment.

Prior performance may not guarantee future results, but present desire can! Read how we feel determination should be your go to asset in the most recent Uplift!