Just one solid to take into your weekend.
On the first day of my freshman year (at Ogden High, nonetheless) I was feeling pretty cool. Well actually, I had stressed the whole two weeks before about which door I should go in as to not get lossed. I'm a worrier by nature, and it was these big looming issues that would keep me up at night. Anyway, I was feeling pretty cool still, I had made it in through the right door and was on my way up to the 4th floor (the freshman floor, no AC, no problem). I was all spiffied up in my probably 100% American Eagle outfit. I've also found that I become obsessed with one store and buy clothes ONLY from that store. I'm creative, right? I honestly don't remember what I was wearing that first day except for my shoes. Oh, the shoes. I had coveted these shoes for the whole of summer and had anxiously saved them for my first day of high school.
Remember those really cool looking clunky Doc Martins, yeah, they kind of looked like those, but AE style. They had mustard laces and I loved them. Problem was, when I anxiously dragged my mother to the mall to purchase them for me, they didn't have my size, of course. So, I settled on the size bigger. No biggie, right? Wrong.
You see, the main floor of good ol' Ogden High was what we called the "senior rotunda." There was a big copper tiger in the middle, the main office and against the two walls facing the grand staircase (keep this in mind, it's important) were two 3-tiered large carpeted steps/platforms and that's where all the cool seniors hung out between class, and during class. I did go to Ogden High. Of course I started sweating bullets the second I stepped foot into said rotunda. I took a deep breath and just zeroed in on those stairs. I didn't want to push a penny with my nose on the first day of school (that was the Ogden Tiger initiation policy at the time), Looking back, I was probably a little too zeroed in and most likely started walking a little too quickly. But, I made it to the stairs.
I was a champ, I had made it to the stairs without being noticed and I was about the make my ascent to my safe place (the 4th floor), where I was sure I would be greeted with a fanfare from my other fellow freshman. Yes, this is all going on in my head as I start of the first few stairs, are you still with me? Okay.
So there I am, glittering eyes, a bounce in my step, and WHAM.
I fall up the stairs, hitting my shins (only slightly, no bruises), while one of my beloved AE shoes betrays me and tumbles down, and down, and down. Right back down to that senior rotunda, almost making it to the copper tiger in the middle of the room. I mean, they were the clunkiest of clunky shoes, they gained speed very quickly. My life literally flashed before my eyes. Everything was bright, and I honestly don't remember if there were roars of laughter or if I wasn't even noticed. I'm guessing I was at least somewhat noticed, but I didn't hear it, so it didn't happen.
So, red faced and limping, I quickly made it down the the stairs that had just stolen every last ounce of my dignity. And since my dignity was stripped of me, I grabbed my shoes and continued to walk up the 3 flights of stairs with that traitorous shoe in hand. Not on foot.
And that, my future grandchildren, is why you do not under any circumstances buy shoes a size too big, it's just not worth it. Also, I'm sure we could gleam another lesson like, instant gratification is bad and bla bla bla, but I have years before I have to actually come up with heartfelt insightful lessons, so really, just don't do it.
Are you wondering why these aren't lessons to my children? Because kids don't listen to their parents, especially when they're about to start the 9th grade. Grandchildren seem to appreciate stories from the good ol' days and even though they might not be totally applicable (although I am assuming we will still have stairs and stupid shoes eons from now) they'll take something from it and tuck it away in the files of their minds. I know I have from my own grandparents.