On Wednesdays, I go to Corin's (my eldest) school to eat lunch with him. I have approximately 30 minutes-ish to do this. It's all very rushed, but I enjoy that his school is close enough for me to do this. We get to sit at a table all by ourselves and chat. This is unlike my school, where I join Silas' class and endure questions about Super Foods.
As I was finishing up lunch with Corin (read: noticing that I was going to be clocking back in after lunch too late), I jet back to my school, where I am five minutes over my allotted time for lunch and ten minutes from my next music class. I walk quickly to the back door of the hall I usually enter through. It's locked. I could walk around (on the sidewalk) to the next hall where I know the library door is locked, but I decide to cut through the grass to the library instead (shortcut). I take a few steps through the grass and thought that it wasn't as wet as I thought it would be from our heavy rain we had yesterday (we had a flash flood in our neighborhood and two of our classrooms at school flooded). I saunter on. The grass starts becoming sporadic grass tufts and dirt (translate:mud) I choose not to turn around (because, uh, I'm lazy) because I am closer to the library door than the sidewalk. I start having to hop from one grass tuft to the next. And then the inevitable happens: I'm on a grass tuft with more grass tufts too far away and mud all around. I hear, "That's not a good idea!". A teacher's aide has seen my dilemma and is now waiting on the sidewalk (I assume to watch me make a fool of myself, but I shall say she was waiting to help). I have incorporated, unfortunately, an audience. "Ya think?" is what I want to respond, but I withhold sarcasm (I don't really know her very well) and respond with a laugh and say, "I learn something new everyday!" She waits as I look for my precarious next step. I take a step and "squuuiiish", there goes my shoe (fuchsia patent leather flats) in the mud and the bottom of my khakis. Crap. I pull the muddy shoe out and stand on my other foot, trying to take off the soiled shoe. Bare foot goes in the mud. I lose my footing (of course) and my other shoe slips in the mud. (low growl) I balance myself on my bare foot (nearly to my ankles in the mud) to take off the other pink shoe. Then, since I'm nearly late to class and WAY overdue to clock in, I book it to the sidewalk, mud splattering my pants and squishing underneath my feet. I make it to the sidewalk and survey the damage, wondering how in the world I'm going to de-mud myself. Superhero (da dah!) teacher's aide steps in, "there's a hose right there." I decide to rinse off my feet and pants (nice) and then run in the building to clock in. I sprint through the library with bare feet and run past my music class in the hall, making their way to the music room. "Mrs. Hill, why you running?" "Mrs. Hill, you're not wearing any shoes!" "Mrs. Hill, why aren't you in music class?" I wave at the children and make it to the time clock. I clock in 15 minutes late and am a mere two minutes away from class time. I sprint back through the hallway, through the library, back to the sidewalk outside, where my lovely teacher's aide is waiting beside my purse (dear lady). I am about to turn the hose on my lovely pink shoes when the teacher's aide says, "DON'T do that! I'll go get you some wipes." She runs inside and I run to take my purse to my class and do a short explanation to my music teacher. My music class is making their way up the hall to the classroom. I run back outside where the teacher's aide is bringing me wipes saying, "You don't want to ruin your shoes." I'm glad she was there. I think I would've hosed myself entirely if she had not been there and thought of the consequences when I was dripping.
I make it back to my music class just in time to turn on the CD player and dance to "Run, Molly, Run" with the children. I'm no worse for wear, not counting, of course, my wet, muddy pants, my messy hair, sweating face, and heavy breathing.
But my shoes look good.