Clarisse asked Annabelle, "Be honest, would you have laughed at me? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed for getting dirty."That evening, Mrs. Farnsworth sank into the plush sofa in her living room, the remnants of the day still weighing heavily on her. She picked up her phone and dialed her sister, Annabelle, needing to vent about the unmitigated disaster that had unraveled at the nature preserve.
“Clarisse! You sound frazzled! What happened?” Annabelle exclaimed as soon as she picked up.
“Oh, Annie, you won’t believe the day I had,” Clarisse started, her voice laced with exasperation. “I spent the morning picking out the perfect outfit—a blue and white nautical top and my brand new navy walking shorts. I even wore my newly minted white Tretorns, thinking I’d be the best-dressed teacher on the trip.”
Annabelle couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Of course you did! Let me guess; you thought Ms. Thompson would be in her frumpy sneakers?”
Clarisse responded with a tight, annoyed laugh. “Exactly! But then, of course, she steps off the bus and accidentally plops both her feet into mud puddles! It was just hilarious watching her try to shake out her wet Nikes.”
“Well, considering the way you like to primp,” Annabelle joked, “I can only imagine how satisfied you were. Did you get a photo?”
“Yes!” Clarisse continued, rolling her eyes at the memory. "I thought I’d take a picture of Ms. Thompson, so I had this idea to position myself on a board to get a good angle. You would have thought I was the queen of the petting area!"
“Oh no, I can see where this is going…” Annabelle pressed, stifling laughter.
“It was so ridiculous! I told Ms. Thompson to step back for the perfect shot, but then—wouldn’t you know it?—I lost my balance and stumbled right into a mud puddle myself!” Clarisse groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the memory.
“Seriously? No!” Annabelle erupted into infectious laughter. “The queen of sparkle covered in muck? How poetic!”
Clarisse huffed in frustration. “It’s not funny, Annie! I was absolutely mortified! I lay there in the mud, soaking wet, as everyone around me just laughed.”
“Come on, it’s a little funny,” Annabelle choked out between giggles. “The priss of the family taken down by a puddle—it makes for a great story!”
Clarisse could feel her face flush with embarrassment. “It’s just that everyone treated it like a great joke, and I was furious! I felt like I was the center of this ridiculous spectacle instead of a respected teacher!”
“Oh, come on! The sight of you, all covered in mud after you tried to trick Ms. Thompson? You can’t deny that it has a certain charm!” Annabelle teased, her voice bubbling with mirth. “Let me picture it: you, standing on that board with a smug look, then bam! Faceplant right into the mud like a cartoon character!”
Clarisse couldn’t help but crack a smile, albeit begrudgingly. “You have a way of making things sound even worse, you know that?”
As the laughter echoed through the phone, Clarisse surrendered to the humor in it all, despite her earlier frustrations. “Fine, maybe it is a bit funny,” she conceded, shaking her head. “But mark my words, next time, I’ll be more careful and wear something weather-appropriate!”
Annabelle chuckled again. “Just remember, sister: mud has no respect for nautical themes or shiny new shoes. Embrace the chaos! It makes for the best stories.”
Clarisse sighed, a reluctant smile creeping onto her lips as she reflected on the day's absurdity, realizing perhaps that her sister had a point.
Clarisse also asked, "If you were there and watching from a distance, what would you haven been thinking as I got onto the wooden board? As I showed off my new Tretorns?"