Community Days

[RonR]

After a brief pause, Lisa sighed, her small chuckle trailing off. "You know what, Jessica? I just… I really wonder how this must have looked to other people. Like, I have my version of it, but I’m almost scared to think of what it must’ve looked like from the outside."

Jessica, still simmering with amusement on the other end of the line, hummed. “Well, probably like you slipped into a mud pit—because, sis, that’s literally what happened.”

"I know that," Lisa groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. "But I mean from start to finish. Like… do you have a visual in your head of how my entire day must have unfolded? Like, from the moment I got ready until I was laying on the ground, face-down in mud?"

A brief silence followed before Jessica snickered. "Oh, I do. And honestly, it’s kind of hilarious if you want to hear it."

Lisa rubbed her temples, already somewhat regretting the question, but morbidly curious. "Okay, fine. I’ll bite. Take me through it. What do you think my day looked like?"

“Oh God, where do I start?” Jessica took a moment, her voice laced with a teasing edge. “Alright, so I’m imagining you early this morning—probably humming while sipping on coffee, already delighted at the thought of looking better than everyone else. You've got your genius outfit plan in place. You twirl a few times in the mirror after slipping on that powder blue sundress, maybe test how it flows when you walk, and then you dramatically pull a cardigan over your shoulders like Grace Kelly—because why not? And then… you eyeball the white Keds." She laughed. "I’m sure you thought, ‘These are pristine, and they’re going to stay that way. I’ll show up like I casually strolled through a summer Vogue spread.’ Am I close?”

Lisa couldn’t suppress a laugh, because, well, most of that was right on the mark. "Keep going," she muttered, almost dreading the next part.

Jessica was clearly enjoying herself now. “Okay, so then, you head to the event with the utmost care, stepping out of your SUV, glancing at the sky like it’s smiling down on you for your impeccable taste. You walk over to the field with this slow, purposeful stride, scanning your surroundings with one thought in your head: 'Oh my God, I'm going to be the best-dressed woman here. Everyone else looks like Walmart just barfed on them.’”

Lisa bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Jessica clearly knew her inside and out. "That’s not what I thought. Exactly," Lisa protested weakly, but Jessica just pushed forward.

"Uh-huh. Then, you start to avoid every tiny insignificance of a mud patch like they're landmines. You’re dodging around, probably giving yourself a mental pat on the back every time your Keds stay spotless. Meanwhile, all the other women just stop caring about it halfway through the day, but nope, not you. You’re treating it like you’re walking across a dance floor.”

Lisa couldn’t help but giggle through her mortification. "It wasn’t that extreme…"

“Oh, I know it was. So, you probably side-eye the women in Crocs, mentally judging them like, ‘Seriously? Crocs? Have you no self-respect?’ And you're out here, breezing through the event, carefully declining any activity where dirt might even think about touching you, right?"

Lisa groaned with a grin. "I mean… well, yeah, sort of. I wasn't going to ruin everything for a pie-eating contest.”

Jessica snickered. “Of course not. Anyway, then I bet you spot the tug-of-war pit, and your inner alarm bells go off. You probably approach it like you've stumbled upon a crime scene, just disgusted by it. Maybe you’re even picking at an invisible mud speck on your dress, wondering, ‘Why does this even exist? Who thought it’d be a great idea to surround a game with mud? Is everyone crazy?’ Then,” Jessica’s voice picked up with excitement, “you take a few dainty steps around it. You know, just to observe the horror from a safe distance."

Lisa sighed. "That’s not far off, honestly…"

"And then," Jessica continued with an exaggerated gasp, "the fateful moment arrives. You spot a little patch of grass that looks dry, your ego fully inflated at this point because you’ve totally conquered the event with zero mud contact. So you step on it, feeling invincible, and then—whoosh! Your foot slips out from under you like a scene straight out of a rom-com. Your arms flail, your perfect sundress swishes, and bam! Down you go, fury and mud all in one fell swoop.”

Lisa groaned again, the memory still too fresh to fully laugh at. "I knew I shouldn’t have let you describe this. I hate how accurate it is."

“Oh, I’m not done,” Jessica said gleefully. “Now, imagine: you’re face down in mud. Just sitting there. Utterly stunned, probably wearing a look like, ‘How could this happen to someone as perfect as me?’ But alas, it did. And then you try to push yourself up but realize, nope, because mud doesn’t care about how clean your Keds were, and now they’re basically shoes made of dirt. You crawl out like some tragic heroine from one of those soap operas, dripping in mud, mascara probably smudging—oh, wait, were you wearing mascara?”

"Jessica," Lisa snapped, though she smiled through it. "I'm not Serena van der Woodsen in distress. And no, thankfully I skipped makeup because I knew it might get hot out."

Jessica cackled anyway. "Well, after all that careful planning, you’re a literal disaster zone, but you still try to regain some dignity. You stand up, trying to act like maybe nobody saw, only to hear stifled laughter from a bunch of kids, and you know you’ve just become the local meme of the year."

"God, please don’t say meme," Lisa groaned again, her face burning in secondhand embarrassment all over again. "I’ve probably destroyed my standing with half of the township."

Jessica let out a deep breath, clearly satisfied with her visual. "So, if you’re wondering what it was like for everyone else? That’s what I’m picturing. A dramatic rise and fall in the name of fashion.”

Lisa shook her head, unable to stop the small laugh now. "Okay, okay, I get the picture. Are you done torturing me?"

Jessica's voice softened, the teasing fading to a comforting warmth. “Honestly, Lisa, it’s not that bad. It’s just one of those things. I love you—perfectionist and all—but sometimes life likes to throw a little mud at you. Literally.”

Lisa sighed again, leaning back into her chair. "Yeah, I guess. I have no choice but to look back at this and laugh someday. But… not today. Today, I’m still too horrified."

"That’s fair. But at least next time, maybe leave the Keds at home, alright?" Jessica teased, and Lisa could hear the smile in her voice.

"I’m never letting you live this down, you know that, right?" Lisa countered, smiling despite herself. "The next time you wipe out on a hike or something, you're getting full commentary from me."

“Please, Lisa, I don’t care if I get dirt on me. I think I’ll survive that.”

Lisa laughed and sank deeper into the chair, finally letting the tension of the day begin to soften. "Right… well, lesson learned. Never underestimate the power of mud."

"And never underestimate my brilliant mental storytelling," Jessica quipped. "But hey, you survived the day, right? Just maybe not your outfit."

Lisa laughed again. "Exactly. Okay, fine, maybe it’ll be funny. Someday."

Lisa said, "I actually left something out but what the heck. When I was circling the mud pit thinking how gross it would be to even get one speck of the nasty stuff near me, I looked down again admiring my pretty Keds. There was such a contrast between the glowing white of the canvas and the ugly black mud that I thought a quick picture would be in order. That's when I stepped closer to the edge with the intentions of getting the lower part of my dress and bright white Keds with the mud as a backdrop. Like, just because there's mud doesn't mean you can't look nice. Can you believe it?"

 

[FeedBot]

Lisa said, "I actually left something out but what the heck. When I was circling the mud pit thinking how gross it would be to even get one speck of the nasty stuff near me, I looked down again admiring my pretty Keds. There was such a contrast between the glowing white of the canvas and the ugly black mud that I thought a quick picture would be in order. That's when I stepped closer to the edge with the intentions of getting the lower part of my dress and bright white Keds with the mud as a backdrop. Like, just because there's mud doesn't mean you can't look nice. Can you believe it?"

Jessica burst out laughing on the other end of the line, the sound echoing through the phone so loudly that Lisa had to pull it an inch away from her ear.

“Wai—wait, hold on… what?!” Jessica wheezed between chuckles, barely able to contain her amusement. “You mean to tell me that you actually walked closer to the mud pit? On purpose—for a [photo-op[/I]?!”

Lisa groaned but couldn’t help smiling despite the continued sting of embarrassment. “Yes, I know. It sounds ridiculous now, but in the moment, it made sense! I mean, Jessica... I looked down, and the white of my Keds was popping against the dark mud. There was just something about the contrast. It was like, 'Look! Even in the filthiest environment, I can still be clean and put-together.' It felt like such a perfect statement!"

Jessica could barely breathe from laughing so hard now. “Oh my God, classic Lisa! Always the fashionista, even standing at the edge of a swamp. ‘Look at me against this filth—I’m practically a work of art.’ I can’t believe this.”

“Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds even worse,” Lisa admitted, covering her face with her free hand. “But at the time, I thought a quick photo would be harmless! My phone was right there in my hand, and I thought I could just get a cute shot—like, 'Here’s how you make mud look stylish.' Who else could pull that off?”

Jessica let out another cackle. “Clearly, not you!”

“Clearly,” Lisa emphasized, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I stepped closer to the edge… I was careful, but apparently not careful enough. I was getting ready to snap the photo when something—I don’t know what—made me lean just slightly… and boom. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, arms flailing, legs covered in muck. And trust me, that was the last thing that would’ve been Instagram-worthy.”

“Oh my God, Lisa, I’m crying,” Jessica gasped, still breathless from laughter. "You went from ‘Look at me being fabulous' to ‘Welcome to the swamp’ in one second flat."

"And the best part?" Lisa groaned, leaning back in her chair, thoroughly exasperated. "I never even took the photo! My phone flew out of my hand when I fell, and I think I landed on it. There was mud all over my dress, my phone, my face—everything. It was like the universe said, ‘No, Lisa. Not today. How about instead, I give you the most humiliating moment of your life instead of your cute little picture?'"

Jessica’s laughter finally started dying down, though she still snorted here and there. “Oh, wow. That’s just golden. I wish I could’ve seen it."

Lisa rested her face in her hands again, though a small, reluctant smile pulled at her lips. “The absolute worst part? I still think it would’ve been such a good picture! Like, it was genuinely a great spot for a ‘fashion versus nature’ kind of vibe.”

Jessica let out another snicker. “Oh, Lisa, only you would fall into a mud pit trying to make a fashion statement.”

“In my defense, anyone could’ve slipped,” Lisa grumbled half-heartedly.

“Sure,” Jessica said, still clearly amused. “But, most people wouldn’t be approaching a giant mud puddle thinking, ‘How can I turn this disgusting mess into a fabulous backdrop for my new shoes?’”

Lisa sat back, defeated but thoroughly entertained now by how absurd the whole situation had been. “Okay, okay. Point taken. I know how ridiculous it sounds. Clearly, I got what was coming to me, huh? The mud had the last laugh.”

“Oh, for sure it did,” Jessica replied with glee, her voice warm and lighthearted now. “And don’t worry—one day you’ll be able to laugh at this, too. I mean, it pretty much sounds like something straight out of a sitcom.”

Lisa snorted in agreement. “Yeah, well… maybe one day I’ll look back at this and laugh. But for now, I think I’ll shower, burn this dress, and mourn the loss of my Keds.”

Jessica giggled. “Fair enough. And hey, just remember—next time you’re thinking of a mud pit as a potential photo backdrop? Maybe take two steps away instead of closer.”

“Lesson learned, Jess. Lesson learned,” Lisa said wearily, but with a smile now, the heartache fading into humor.

“Thanks for the call, by the way. I really needed this,” Lisa admitted.

"Anytime," Jessica chimed in. "And hey, if nothing else, at least your Keds had one memorable last adventure.”

“Ugh,” Lisa sighed. “If by memorable, you mean disastrous, then sure.”

 

[RonR]

Jessica burst out laughing on the other end of the line, the sound echoing through the phone so loudly that Lisa had to pull it an inch away from her ear.

“Wai—wait, hold on… what?!” Jessica wheezed between chuckles, barely able to contain her amusement. “You mean to tell me that you actually walked closer to the mud pit? On purpose—for a [photo-op[/I]?!”

Lisa groaned but couldn’t help smiling despite the continued sting of embarrassment. “Yes, I know. It sounds ridiculous now, but in the moment, it made sense! I mean, Jessica... I looked down, and the white of my Keds was popping against the dark mud. There was just something about the contrast. It was like, 'Look! Even in the filthiest environment, I can still be clean and put-together.' It felt like such a perfect statement!"

Jessica could barely breathe from laughing so hard now. “Oh my God, classic Lisa! Always the fashionista, even standing at the edge of a swamp. ‘Look at me against this filth—I’m practically a work of art.’ I can’t believe this.”

“Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds even worse,” Lisa admitted, covering her face with her free hand. “But at the time, I thought a quick photo would be harmless! My phone was right there in my hand, and I thought I could just get a cute shot—like, 'Here’s how you make mud look stylish.' Who else could pull that off?”

Jessica let out another cackle. “Clearly, not you!”

“Clearly,” Lisa emphasized, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I stepped closer to the edge… I was careful, but apparently not careful enough. I was getting ready to snap the photo when something—I don’t know what—made me lean just slightly… and boom. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, arms flailing, legs covered in muck. And trust me, that was the last thing that would’ve been Instagram-worthy.”

“Oh my God, Lisa, I’m crying,” Jessica gasped, still breathless from laughter. "You went from ‘Look at me being fabulous' to ‘Welcome to the swamp’ in one second flat."

"And the best part?" Lisa groaned, leaning back in her chair, thoroughly exasperated. "I never even took the photo! My phone flew out of my hand when I fell, and I think I landed on it. There was mud all over my dress, my phone, my face—everything. It was like the universe said, ‘No, Lisa. Not today. How about instead, I give you the most humiliating moment of your life instead of your cute little picture?'"

Jessica’s laughter finally started dying down, though she still snorted here and there. “Oh, wow. That’s just golden. I wish I could’ve seen it."

Lisa rested her face in her hands again, though a small, reluctant smile pulled at her lips. “The absolute worst part? I still think it would’ve been such a good picture! Like, it was genuinely a great spot for a ‘fashion versus nature’ kind of vibe.”

Jessica let out another snicker. “Oh, Lisa, only you would fall into a mud pit trying to make a fashion statement.”

“In my defense, anyone could’ve slipped,” Lisa grumbled half-heartedly.

“Sure,” Jessica said, still clearly amused. “But, most people wouldn’t be approaching a giant mud puddle thinking, ‘How can I turn this disgusting mess into a fabulous backdrop for my new shoes?’”

Lisa sat back, defeated but thoroughly entertained now by how absurd the whole situation had been. “Okay, okay. Point taken. I know how ridiculous it sounds. Clearly, I got what was coming to me, huh? The mud had the last laugh.”

“Oh, for sure it did,” Jessica replied with glee, her voice warm and lighthearted now. “And don’t worry—one day you’ll be able to laugh at this, too. I mean, it pretty much sounds like something straight out of a sitcom.”

Lisa snorted in agreement. “Yeah, well… maybe one day I’ll look back at this and laugh. But for now, I think I’ll shower, burn this dress, and mourn the loss of my Keds.”

Jessica giggled. “Fair enough. And hey, just remember—next time you’re thinking of a mud pit as a potential photo backdrop? Maybe take two steps away instead of closer.”

“Lesson learned, Jess. Lesson learned,” Lisa said wearily, but with a smile now, the heartache fading into humor.

“Thanks for the call, by the way. I really needed this,” Lisa admitted.

"Anytime," Jessica chimed in. "And hey, if nothing else, at least your Keds had one memorable last adventure.”

“Ugh,” Lisa sighed. “If by memorable, you mean disastrous, then sure.”

Lisa asked Jessica, "Be honest, if you had been there, would you have laughed? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed for getting dirty."

Lisa asked Jessica, "How did you guess tug-of-war mud pit when I was first telling the story?"

Lisa asked Jessica, "If you had been there watching from a distance, what would you have been thinking as I walked around the mud-puddle ridden field on tiptoes and then when I started to wander over to the mud tug area?

 

[FeedBot]

Lisa asked Jessica, "Be honest, if you had been there, would you have laughed? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed for getting dirty."

Lisa asked Jessica, "How did you guess tug-of-war mud pit when I was first telling the story?"

Lisa asked Jessica, "If you had been there watching from a distance, what would you have been thinking as I walked around the mud-puddle ridden field on tiptoes and then when I started to wander over to the mud tug area?

Jessica chuckled softly, clearly delighted at the line of questioning. She could already sense where this was going.

"Okay, okay," Jessica began, a knowing smile in her voice. "Let’s just dive straight into it, shall we?"

Lisa’s first question: "Be honest, if you had been there, would you have laughed? Why? You know I wasn’t dressed for getting dirty."

Jessica let out a sharp laugh before composing herself. “Oh, Lisa, I love you, but come on, you know I would’ve laughed. How could anyone not laugh?”

"I wasn't ready for that!" Lisa protested, though she knew deep down Jessica was being her usual, brutally honest self.

"But listen," Jessica went on, "it’s not because you fell, or like, that I’d want to see you humiliated. No, no—what would’ve made me crack up is the absolute theatrical spectacle of it all. You, in your pristine little outfit, trying your hardest to avoid a single speck of dirt, probably tiptoeing around like you were in a museum avoiding the velvet ropes, and then bam—you end up submerged in the very thing you were avoiding the entire time! I mean... come on! That’s comedic gold!” she laughed. “It’s like something from an old slapstick movie."

Lisa grimaced. "Gotta love the sibling support."

“Oh, don't worry. I would’ve helped you up after I finished laughing,” Jessica quickly added. “I promise, I wouldn’t have just let you sit there flailing helplessly in the mud, though I might have grabbed my phone first.”

Lisa groaned. "I can't with you. Would you have at least offered me a towel?"

"Sure, if I had one,” Jessica teased.

Lisa’s second question: "How did you guess tug-of-war mud pit when I was first telling the story?"

Jessica grinned, feeling smug about this one. “Oh, easy. It’s like the first rule of community events like this: if there’s a tug-of-war competition, there’s always a mud pit nearby. It's the classic event setup. The minute you started talking about avoiding all the other dirty activities? I knew. That sneaky, filthy mud pit was waiting for you," she said with a sense of mock-foreboding.

"But also," she added with a shrug, "honestly, you and mud? That’s like two forces of nature that are bound to collide at some point. You avoid it so much that it’s practically begging to take you down."

"I definitely wasn’t begging for it," Lisa replied dryly.

"Hey, well… it found you anyway,” Jessica quipped. “I bet if you’d gone for that pie-eating contest instead of walking around the field, none of this would’ve happened.”

"Pie in my face versus mud all over me..." Lisa mused. "Neither sounds appealing."

"True,” Jessica chuckled. “But at least the pie would’ve tasted good.”

Lisa’s final question: "If you had been there watching from a distance, what would you have been thinking as I walked around the mud-puddle ridden field on tiptoes and then when I started to wander over to the mud tug area?"

Jessica sat back, smirking to herself. “Oh, that’s easy. Honestly? I would’ve been thinking, ‘Here she goes.’”

"Here I go?" Lisa pressed, curious. "Really? What does that even mean?"

Jessica giggled. "It means, Lisa, I know you. I would’ve spotted you from a mile away, avoiding mud like it had rabies, walking around gingerly like you were on some dainty little runway. I’m pretty sure I would’ve been watching from the bleachers and just shaking my head, thinking, ‘Of course.’ Because you’re the person who goes to a messy event and treats it like a high-stakes fashion show.”

Lisa couldn't argue with that. “Well, they could’ve at least warned me about the mud.”

“Oh, no,” Jessica said with a mischievous laugh, “just watching you tiptoeing around trying [so hard] to keep your Keds looking gleaming white while everyone else is rolling around without a care? Hilarious. I would’ve bet money that something was going to happen."

“Like what?” Lisa asked, narrowing her eyes, intrigued.

Jessica paused for dramatic effect. “Like either your shoe would slip, or some kid would come running up and coat you in mud. Or—exactly what happened—you’d get too close to that tug-of-war pit!”

Lisa cradled her head in her hands, letting out a deep sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you would’ve been waiting for me to mess up?”

“Hey, come on now! I would've been your cheerleader!" Jessica said, feigning righteousness. “But I think my intuition would've kicked in the second I saw you wandering toward that mud pit. I mean, you walking right towards it? I would’ve already been sitting there thinking, ‘Noooo, Lisa, what are you doing?!’ while knowing full well that you wouldn’t hear me because, come on, you’re on a mission.”

Lisa chuckled darkly. “I was on a mission. A mission to take that dumb picture. I didn’t even see the disaster coming. I just… I was thinking fashion—mud photo—that’s it.”

"That’s the thing, sis. When you’re too focused on fashion, the universe sometimes just loves to hit you with a pie—or, in your case, a mud pie!" Jessica’s laughter returned, this time softer, teasing more than mocking.

Lisa sighed, a smile twitching at her lips. “Alright, alright. I guess in hindsight, it was pretty inevitable. But still… next time, warn me.”

Jessica smirked. "Don’t worry. Next time we hang out, I’ll follow you around with a megaphone and scream, '[Look out for the mud!]' at the top of my lungs."

Lisa groaned, but this time, it was with laughter rather than frustration. "Honestly, Jessica, I think I need that. Just—just to prevent any more fashion-related catastrophes."

"You got it, sis," Jessica replied, the warmth genuine under the humor. "I’ll make sure you and your Keds are safe from the forces of nature."

"Deal," Lisa said, still grinning.

 

[RonR]

Jessica chuckled softly, clearly delighted at the line of questioning. She could already sense where this was going.

"Okay, okay," Jessica began, a knowing smile in her voice. "Let’s just dive straight into it, shall we?"

Lisa’s first question: "Be honest, if you had been there, would you have laughed? Why? You know I wasn’t dressed for getting dirty."

Jessica let out a sharp laugh before composing herself. “Oh, Lisa, I love you, but come on, you know I would’ve laughed. How could anyone not laugh?”

"I wasn't ready for that!" Lisa protested, though she knew deep down Jessica was being her usual, brutally honest self.

"But listen," Jessica went on, "it’s not because you fell, or like, that I’d want to see you humiliated. No, no—what would’ve made me crack up is the absolute theatrical spectacle of it all. You, in your pristine little outfit, trying your hardest to avoid a single speck of dirt, probably tiptoeing around like you were in a museum avoiding the velvet ropes, and then bam—you end up submerged in the very thing you were avoiding the entire time! I mean... come on! That’s comedic gold!” she laughed. “It’s like something from an old slapstick movie."

Lisa grimaced. "Gotta love the sibling support."

“Oh, don't worry. I would’ve helped you up after I finished laughing,” Jessica quickly added. “I promise, I wouldn’t have just let you sit there flailing helplessly in the mud, though I might have grabbed my phone first.”

Lisa groaned. "I can't with you. Would you have at least offered me a towel?"

"Sure, if I had one,” Jessica teased.

Lisa’s second question: "How did you guess tug-of-war mud pit when I was first telling the story?"

Jessica grinned, feeling smug about this one. “Oh, easy. It’s like the first rule of community events like this: if there’s a tug-of-war competition, there’s always a mud pit nearby. It's the classic event setup. The minute you started talking about avoiding all the other dirty activities? I knew. That sneaky, filthy mud pit was waiting for you," she said with a sense of mock-foreboding.

"But also," she added with a shrug, "honestly, you and mud? That’s like two forces of nature that are bound to collide at some point. You avoid it so much that it’s practically begging to take you down."

"I definitely wasn’t begging for it," Lisa replied dryly.

"Hey, well… it found you anyway,” Jessica quipped. “I bet if you’d gone for that pie-eating contest instead of walking around the field, none of this would’ve happened.”

"Pie in my face versus mud all over me..." Lisa mused. "Neither sounds appealing."

"True,” Jessica chuckled. “But at least the pie would’ve tasted good.”

Lisa’s final question: "If you had been there watching from a distance, what would you have been thinking as I walked around the mud-puddle ridden field on tiptoes and then when I started to wander over to the mud tug area?"

Jessica sat back, smirking to herself. “Oh, that’s easy. Honestly? I would’ve been thinking, ‘Here she goes.’”

"Here I go?" Lisa pressed, curious. "Really? What does that even mean?"

Jessica giggled. "It means, Lisa, I know you. I would’ve spotted you from a mile away, avoiding mud like it had rabies, walking around gingerly like you were on some dainty little runway. I’m pretty sure I would’ve been watching from the bleachers and just shaking my head, thinking, ‘Of course.’ Because you’re the person who goes to a messy event and treats it like a high-stakes fashion show.”

Lisa couldn't argue with that. “Well, they could’ve at least warned me about the mud.”

“Oh, no,” Jessica said with a mischievous laugh, “just watching you tiptoeing around trying [so hard] to keep your Keds looking gleaming white while everyone else is rolling around without a care? Hilarious. I would’ve bet money that something was going to happen."

“Like what?” Lisa asked, narrowing her eyes, intrigued.

Jessica paused for dramatic effect. “Like either your shoe would slip, or some kid would come running up and coat you in mud. Or—exactly what happened—you’d get too close to that tug-of-war pit!”

Lisa cradled her head in her hands, letting out a deep sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you would’ve been waiting for me to mess up?”

“Hey, come on now! I would've been your cheerleader!" Jessica said, feigning righteousness. “But I think my intuition would've kicked in the second I saw you wandering toward that mud pit. I mean, you walking right towards it? I would’ve already been sitting there thinking, ‘Noooo, Lisa, what are you doing?!’ while knowing full well that you wouldn’t hear me because, come on, you’re on a mission.”

Lisa chuckled darkly. “I was on a mission. A mission to take that dumb picture. I didn’t even see the disaster coming. I just… I was thinking fashion—mud photo—that’s it.”

"That’s the thing, sis. When you’re too focused on fashion, the universe sometimes just loves to hit you with a pie—or, in your case, a mud pie!" Jessica’s laughter returned, this time softer, teasing more than mocking.

Lisa sighed, a smile twitching at her lips. “Alright, alright. I guess in hindsight, it was pretty inevitable. But still… next time, warn me.”

Jessica smirked. "Don’t worry. Next time we hang out, I’ll follow you around with a megaphone and scream, '[Look out for the mud!]' at the top of my lungs."

Lisa groaned, but this time, it was with laughter rather than frustration. "Honestly, Jessica, I think I need that. Just—just to prevent any more fashion-related catastrophes."

"You got it, sis," Jessica replied, the warmth genuine under the humor. "I’ll make sure you and your Keds are safe from the forces of nature."

"Deal," Lisa said, still grinning.

You mentioned romcom and slapstick. Have you seen a nicely dressed girl on television or in a movie end up in the mud when she didn't want to? How did it happen?

Didn't we know a girl in college that had a massive wipeout in the mud? I don't recall the details other than her wearing white tennis shoes...how did it happen?

 

[FeedBot]

You mentioned romcom and slapstick. Have you seen a nicely dressed girl on television or in a movie end up in the mud when she didn't want to? How did it happen?

Didn't we know a girl in college that had a massive wipeout in the mud? I don't recall the details other than her wearing white tennis shoes...how did it happen?

Jessica smirked at the question, immediately turning her mental Rolodex to all the romcoms and comedies she had seen over the years.

“Oh, definitely,” she replied. “You know those classic romcom tropes—it’s basically a requirement for the lead female character to fall into some kind of mud or water at some point, especially if she’s all dolled up. Let’s see… one of the prime examples I can think of is Bridget Jones’s Diary. You know, there’s that whole scene where she’s already kind of a mess, but then she gets herself stuck climbing out of a literal mud pit at that outdoor event. She’s in heels and a dress and just face-plants into the mud… and of course, her romantic interest, Mark Darcy, is right there to witness the whole disaster. Classic.”

“Oh, right,” Lisa muttered. “I remember that. But Bridget always looks like a hot mess in those movies.”

“True,” Jessica agreed, laughing lightly. “But there’s something about those scenes… it’s always the ‘pristine look meets chaotic environment’ that makes the audience sympathize, but also cringe-laugh. Like, you just know it’s about to happen, and you can’t look away. Oh! And in The Princess Diaries, remember when Mia collapses into the sand after trying to sword-fight with brooms? She’s all dolled up as a princess, but by the end of that scene, she’s a total wreck.”

“Okay, I get it,” Lisa said, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile at the shared mental images. "It's always the perfectly dressed, put-together girl who goes down in the most embarrassing fashion."

"You've literally lived out those moments today, sis,” Jessica teased. “You're a one-woman sitcom sometimes, I swear."

Lisa sighed. "Alright, alright. So in the world of romcoms, I'm a cliché. Got it."

"And a good one," Jessica added with a snicker.

Lisa arched an eyebrow, sensing there was more Jessica wasn’t saying. "But wait… what about that girl in college?" she asked, suddenly remembering a long-forgotten incident. "Didn’t we know someone who had a massive wipeout in the mud? All I remember is her wearing white tennis shoes… how did that happen?"

Jessica burst out laughing almost immediately. “Oh. My. God. YES! You’re talking about Stacy, right? I can’t believe you don’t remember the details of this. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed.”

"It’s all kind of fuzzy," Lisa admitted, curious now. "What actually happened? I remember people talking about it, but I wasn’t there for the whole thing.”

“Oh, you missed the best part,” Jessica said, leaning into the story, her tone gleeful. “It was during that end-of-year campus event—they had a bunch of those outdoor games set up, and of course, there was a rainstorm the day before, so everything turned into one massive mud field by the afternoon."

"Wait," Lisa interrupted, starting to remember. "Wasn’t this the Spring Fling event? The one with the barbecue and inflatable slides?”

"Yes! That's the one!" Jessica exclaimed. "Anyway, Stacy—who, mind you, was never the kind of girl to shy away from an adventure, but that day she was particularly impractical—had shown up in these brand-new white tennis shoes like it was a casual street festival or something. I remember noticing them because they were so pristine, and I distinctly thought to myself, ‘Oh no, girl, what are you doing?’"

Lisa giggled. "Seriously? Stacy? She was so outgoing, I figured she'd have been the type to wear old sneakers or boots if things were going to get muddy."

"Right?! But nope, she showed up fashionably late, of course, and immediately starts mingling near the games. And then—it was like a train wreck waiting to happen—someone dared her to go through one of the obstacle courses. You know, one of those inflatable ones with the giant slides and the tunnels.”

"Oh, no…" Lisa murmured, knowing where this was heading.

Jessica laughed. "Yep! She accepted the dare. I swear, she walked up to it with so much confidence. And I remember standing there thinking, ‘This is going to be amazing or a total disaster.’ Of course, halfway through, she lost her balance while climbing one of the inflatable hurdles, slipped, and faceplanted straight into a giant puddle of mud that had pooled near the bottom of the slide.”

“No!” Lisa gasped.

“Oh, yes,” Jessica said, drawing out the moment. “And the worst part? The mud wasn’t even that deep, but it was everywhere—it splattered all over her shoes, her clothes, her hair… And when she tried to get up, her foot slipped again, and she fell right back down, totally covered by that point.”

Lisa was laughing uncontrollably now. “Oh my God, how did I miss that?!”

“You must've been on the other side of the field or something, because it was legendary. And Stacy? She just stood up, looked down at herself, and muttered, ‘Well… this is fine.’ She owned it, but you could tell she was inwardly freaking out about those white shoes.”

“She played it cool?" Lisa asked, impressed. "I would’ve been so mad."

"Totally!” Jessica said. “She laughed it off, but I swear she was dying inside. She spent the rest of the event like a walking mud sculpture, and she didn’t even try to clean up. Just let it happen. Her white tennis shoes were basically brown by the end.”

“Oh man, that would be me in the worst way possible,” Lisa groaned, thinking of her own experience that day.

Jessica snickered. “Guess it runs in the circle, huh? But sorry, sis—you didn’t play it quite as cool as Stacy.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Don’t rub it in. At least I’m over it… kind of.”

“C’mon, though, it’s a great story,” Jessica teased. “But I’ll admit, I forgot just how iconic Stacy’s wipeout was until now. Thanks for reminding me—best trip down memory lane. I'll always have that visual.”

“Glad I could help relive a moment of someone else’s humiliation," Lisa smirked, shaking her head but grinning anyway.

“And to be fair, Lisa," Jessica added, “you weren’t the first—and you definitely won’t be the last—to face off with mud in white shoes.”

“True.” Lisa sighed. “Still... maybe next time, I’ll try boots.”

Jessica laughed heartily. “Yes, please. For my sake, I don’t think I can handle a sequel!”

“I’m the one who slipped into a mud pit, Jess, not you.”

“Details,” Jessica teased.