You Tell Me

[RonR]

Madison repeated, "Pranced? I did not prance, Mom." She sat up straight, her tone indignant. "I was walking carefully, strategically. It's not my fault the mud pit was basically waiting to eat me alive!"

Her mother chuckled, clearly enjoying this. "Oh, sweetheart, I can picture it now. You, in your sundress, trying to avoid every little speck of dirt. It must’ve been quite a sight—I bet your friends had a good laugh?"

Madison huffed, folding her arms defensively, even though her mother couldn’t see her through the phone. "Had a good laugh? Oh, they were practically dying. They couldn’t move—they were laughing so hard. I completely face-planted. Face-planted, Mom. Do you know how much mud that gets you when you literally go head-first into it?"

Her mom couldn’t suppress the snort of laughter. "Oh, honey... A face-plant? In the middle of a farm, of all places? How did you even manage to get up from that?"

“Not gracefully!” Madison shot back, her frustration flooding her voice. “I was covered! From head to toe! My shoes were—ugh, they were just sloshing with every step, squishing loud enough for everyone to hear. And then I had to walk around the rest of the day like that!"

“Squishing, huh?” Her mom's voice was practically dripping with amusement now. “That must have been lovely.”

Madison groaned theatrically. “Let’s not even talk about the sounds, okay? Every single step was like a symphony of humiliation. And every time I’d try to wipe some mud off, it would just smear and get worse.” She paused, leaning back on her bed, staring at her muddled reflection in the mirror across the room. "I looked like a walking chocolate pudding."

Her mom laughed fully now. "Oh, honey, if only I had been there with my camera... actually, did anyone take pictures?"

Madison’s eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. Mom, don’t even joke about that. The second Jess gets her stupid hands on those photos, they’ll be all over Instagram before I even have a chance to—”

Her mom cut in gently, "Well, you have to admit, it’s pretty funny. I mean, you did decide to wear brand new white sneakers to a farm. Who does that, Madison?"

Madison let out a long exhale. "Okay, yeah, in hindsight? Not my best choice. But I thought I’d stay clean! It’s not like I thought I’d end up wrestling in mud like some cartoon character.”

Her mother took a brief pause, then asked, “So... what happened in that exact moment? When did you know it was over?"

Madison sighed dramatically, reliving the moment. "Well, everything was fine at first! I was carefully stepping around every puddle, feeling proud of myself for not ruining my outfit, when suddenly—bam. I hit this uneven part on the ground. My shoe caught on it—just for a second, but it was enough. I felt myself wobbling, and in that moment, I just knew I was done for."

Her mom chuckled at the growing drama in Madison's voice. "So what happened next?"

“Well,” Madison continued, already exasperated just remembering it, “I tried to stop myself from falling—you know, like in those slow-motion dreams where you think you can stop yourself but keep failing.” She groaned. “Of course, I over-corrected, hit the edge of the pit, and then... nothing but mud. Everywhere. My dress caught half of it; my face got the rest.”

Her mother couldn’t contain her amusement anymore. “Oh, honey, that just sounds tragic. But also…” she giggled, “…very, very funny.”

Madison’s mouth twitched in an unwilling smile, though she tried to fight it. "Yeah, sure. It’s funny... if you’re not the one living through it in real time, covered in farm sludge. I swear, I could feel it between my toes for hours. Also, do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around with wet shoes and pretend you’re fine?"

Her mom jumped in with faux-excitement: “Oh gosh, yes, I’m sure the squelching sound really added to the elegance of your whole day.”

Madison rolled her eyes, though her voice softened with reluctant fondness. "The squelching sound was basically the soundtrack of my suffering. Anyone within a mile could hear me coming. It was like—squelch, squish, splat—over and over again. Jess offered to record it, by the way, just to immortalize the moment for me."

Her mom burst into laughter at that. “Honestly, Madison, it’s kind of like one of those moments you’ll look back on and laugh about later in life. Maybe not now—since I can feel the existential crisis building—but one day for sure.”

Madison grumbled, “Sure, like when I turn fifty and I’m ready to laugh at my own pain.”

Her mom softened, tone more comforting now, but still playful. "Well, maybe next time you'll—what's the phrase?—dress for the occasion, instead of pulling a Vogue cover shoot on a farm trip.”

Madison let out a defeated laugh. "Have I learned my lesson? Maybe. But next time, that farm better be ready for me—I'll have to devise some... strategies," she said, eyes narrowing as she started planning her outfit for any possible future rural excursions.

Her mom teased: "How about rubber boots and old jeans, hun? You know, like a normal person. Leave the Keds at home.”

“Rubber boots?!” Madison gasped in mock horror. "Mom, I still need a little dignity!"

And with that, her mom burst into laughter again, the two of them sharing the ridiculousness of the whole ordeal.

“Okay, okay,” Madison said, finally exhaling the tension of the day, “maybe farm life and I just don’t mix. But I’ve learned one thing for sure: being fashionable is pain used for learning... and I’m adding 'mud' to my list of enemies.”

Her mom chuckled softly. “Well, at least I got a good story out of it. I’m definitely sharing this one with Aunt Cindy.”

Madison groaned. "Oh God, please don’t. She’ll bring it up every Thanksgiving for, like, the next decade."

“I’ll try not to,” her mom said unconvincingly. “But, hey, maybe next year I’ll get you some nice, sensible boots for Christmas.”

“Ha-ha, hilarious, Mom.” Madison replied, her tone dripping sarcasm, though she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. "Just promise you won’t ask about the Keds again. It's... too soon."

“I promise,” said her mom, still chuckling. "For now."

Have mom share a time when she ruined a new pair of white sneakers and how she felt. Did she wear them someplace where she shouldn’t have? Was it humiliating at the time?

 

[FeedBot]

Have mom share a time when she ruined a new pair of white sneakers and how she felt. Did she wear them someplace where she shouldn’t have? Was it humiliating at the time?

As the conversation wound down and Madison began to relax, there was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft chuckle from her mom.

"You know, Mads," her mom began, a little more thoughtfully, "it's funny because hearing your story just now… it actually reminded me of something."

Madison sat up, intrigued but slightly wary. "What? You getting drenched at some garden party or something?"

Her mom laughed. "Oh, no, way worse. This was way back—years before you were even born, actually. I was about your age and, well, let’s just say I also learned the hard way that white sneakers are a magnet for humiliation if you wear them to the wrong place."

Madison raised an eyebrow at the phone. "Wait—you? You always gave me those speeches about 'proper footwear choices' like you’ve never made a fashion mistake in your life."

Her mom’s voice softened, as if remembering it all vividly. “Oh, honey, I’ve made plenty of those. But this one? I still cringe about it sometimes.”

Now Madison was hooked. ”Oh, please, tell me everything. I need to know you were just as ridiculous as I was today.”

Her mom sighed, anticipating the inevitable judgment but already chuckling at her younger self. "Okay, so picture this… I’m in college, first semester, and my friends are all part of this student outdoor activities group. They invite me to some festival weekend thing—lots of hiking trails, fields, things like that. In my head, I thought it was all just, you know, for fun. They said there’d be a bonfire, some vendors. Kind of a big, daytime event."

"Mom..." Madison interrupted knowingly, sensing where this was going. "Tell me you didn’t."

"Oh, I did." Her mom sighed before continuing. "Earlier that week, I had just bought this brand-new pair of white Reeboks. They were all the rage back then. I remember I was obsessed with them—kept telling everyone how I was going to pair them with every cute outfit I had. So, naturally, for this festival… I figured I'd, you know, 'casually stun' with my brand-new sneakers." She laughed lightly. "Your exact thought process today, basically. Except worse."

Madison groaned. "Mom, that’s already sounding like a disaster."

"You have no idea," her mom said with a chuckle, then paused for dramatic effect. "So, I show up, all proud, wearing these new white Reeboks and a pair of pastel jeans—because, you know, fashionable hiking, right?"

Madison snickered. "Pastel. Jeans. On a hike?"

"Okay, ease off," her mom said, laughing harder now. "It was the '90s! You put pastels on everything. Anyway, I turn up, and the moment we get there, I realize I’ve made a horrible mistake. There were trails everywhere, the ground was covered in wet leaves because it rained the night before, and there were hills that just looked like muddy obstacle courses."

Madison couldn’t hold back her laugh this time. "Wait—so you voluntarily walked into a muddy hiking festival in pastel jeans and white Reeboks? Oh my god."

"Yes. Yes, I did. Exactly like you did today.” Her mom sighed, continuing, “I had this crazy confidence, though, just like you were saying earlier. For a second, I thought, oh no big deal, I’ll just walk around the muddy areas. I really—honestly—believed I could stay clean. But then it happened."

Madison leaned in. “You wiped out?”

Her mom winced, even decades later still feeling the embarrassment. "Mmm not at first, but the humiliation came soon enough. We get halfway through this forest trail—everything's squishy and slippery, and of course I’m doing my best to walk around the mess like some kind of runway model in a jungle. But then we get to this steep hill, one of those slick, grassy slopes still wet from rain."

"Oh no," Madison muttered, eyes wide now, picturing the scene.

"Yeah, oh no is right!" her mom said, voice rising as she indulged in the memory. "There’s this moment where I reach the edge, trying to be all poised and calm while the group in front of me is sliding down. And then, just as I think I’m in the clear, woooop, my foot slides in the mud, and down I go—completely wiping out. All the way down the hill on my butt."

Madison gasped, laughing hysterically. "Wait, you slid down the hill?! Like full-body wipeout?"

"Full-body," her mom confirmed with mock seriousness. "I’m talking full-on sledding mode—on my backside, my white sneakers leading the charge, my pastel pants dragging like a muddy banner behind me. I ended up crashing into some shrubs at the bottom. My friends? Oh, they died. I looked like I was trying to swim through mud.”

Madison was crying from laughter now. "Mom! That’s even worse than my farm disaster.”

Her mom laughed along. “Oh yeah, definitely. I wish that story ended there, but oh no—it got worse. Not only were my sneakers and jeans covered in mud, but to get back to the starting point, I had to walk through the rest of the trails in a completely soggy, mud-caked state. Every time I moved, mud sloshed inside my shoes. And do you know how humiliating it is walking back to campus with people passing you—in pastel jeans?!"

Madison clapped her hand over her mouth, laughing uncontrollably. "Mom, that’s the cringiest story you’ve ever told me."

Her mom sighed dramatically for effect but joined in on the belly laughs. "Oh, it was! At the time, I wanted to crawl into a hole. I felt like the universe had specifically decided to humble me that day. I loved those shoes, and after that one afternoon? Ruined. I tried to scrub them for weeks, but they never regained their original glory."

Madison was still giggling as she caught her breath. “I can’t believe you never told me this story before. I thought you were, like, the queen of sensible shoe choices.”

Her mom chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s why I’m always preaching about practicality now. Sometimes you learn things the hard way. To this day, though, I still can’t stand the idea of mud—or pastel jeans, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well,” Madison said, now fully entertained by her mom’s embarrassment, “looks like loving white shoes runs in the family. We just both had to get outsmarted by mud to learn it."

Her mom laughed again, her tone warm. "Exactly. But hey, at least you didn’t wipe out in front of a busy campus on a hill. You got off easy with the farm crowd."

Madison winced, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I dunno, the way Jess was filming me after the fall, I feel like the campus moment is coming for me too."

Her mom sighed with a playful smile in her voice. "Well, if it’s any consolation, I will still argue those Reeboks were worth it—up until the minute they weren't."

Madison grinned. “That’s exactly how I feel about my Keds. Well… maybe not just yet."

"Give it time, honey," her mom said knowingly. "And next time? Maybe wear your sneakers to actual places they're meant for."

Madison rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped. "Yeah, yeah, lesson learned, Mom... lesson learned."