Joan asks her sister, "Why don't you think anyone warned me that I was so close to the mud?"
Joan lay back on her couch, still feeling a mix of lingering humiliation and reluctant humor over the entire mud pit disaster. She had replayed the scene in her mind a dozen times by now, and there was one thought that kept nagging at her. With a sigh, she picked up the phone and called Brooke again.
Brooke answered, still in mid-laughter from their last conversation. “Joan! What now? Did you spoil another pair of sneakers today, or are we revisiting Mud Gate 2023?”
Joan sighed dramatically. “Very funny, Brooke. But listen—I don’t get it. Why didn’t anyone
warn me that I was backing up into the mud? I mean, there were like fifty people around watching it happen. Why didn’t someone say something?!”
Brooke snorted, trying to suppress a chuckle. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, seriously,” Joan said, her tone a mix of hurt and confusion. “They saw me stressing out about the water balloon. I was just trying to avoid getting splashed, and… I wasn’t exactly paying attention to where I was going, okay? How could nobody say, like, ‘Hey, Joan, careful, you’re about two inches away from disaster’? It’s like they just let me waltz right into it!”
Brooke couldn't keep it in anymore—she burst out laughing.
“Ugh, Brooke! Now
you’re laughing at me too?”
Brooke took a second to catch her breath, still chuckling. “Okay, okay… I’ll try to give it to you straight. But honestly, Jo, do you
really not know why no one warned you?”
“…No.” Joan said, voice soft, like the realization was dawning on her. “Wait, why?”
“Seriously, think about it,” Brooke replied, and Joan could just picture her sister shaking her head with a grin. “What kind of scene were you putting on before you fell in? You were dodging a kid like you were in the
Matrix, and for what?
One water balloon. You already know you can be… well, a little
extra when it comes to keeping yourself ‘put together.’”
Joan frowned. “I wouldn’t say
that.”
Brooke snorted. “Oh, please. Everyone saw you doing the dance of a thousand careful steps just to avoid a little splash. You were practically
performing out there, waving your dress and your sneakers around like they were delicate national treasures. Trust me—the minute you started backing up toward the mud, people weren’t thinking, ‘Let’s help Joan out.’ They were probably thinking,
‘Let’s see what happens next.’ You know how people are when they see a slow-motion disaster coming. And honestly? You were kind of walking straight into one.”
Joan went quiet for a second, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. "...So… you're saying everyone was enjoying the
show?"
Brooke sighed but teased affectionately. “Well, they didn’t exactly have to pay for tickets to watch the drama unfold. You know what I mean? You were giving off ‘I’m invincible’ vibes after dodging the balloon. And let’s face it—in moments like that, people love a ‘twist ending.’”
Joan groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Ughhh… so everyone just stood there, waiting for me to wipe out spectacularly? That’s so cruel!”
Brooke laughed again. “I wouldn’t say they were rooting for it, but… no one’s gonna interrupt a well-timed slapstick moment of irony. You were in the middle of your victory lap, and then—
bam. The universe decided it was time for some humility. They probably thought if they warned you, you’d just wave it off while you were too busy mentally patting yourself on the back for dodging the balloon!”
Joan winced but couldn’t help finding the truth in Brooke’s words. “Yeah, I guess I got a little… smug. I did feel like I’d achieved something after avoiding that splash.”
“A
little smug? You probably looked like you were ready for a photoshoot the way you straightened that dress,” Brooke teased. “Honestly, Joan, once you didn’t see that mud pit behind you, the rest of them probably just sat back like it was a slow-motion movie. It's human nature. It wasn’t their fault.”
Joan let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “So basically, I brought this on myself?”
“Well, mostly. But hey, next time you’re at a picnic, maybe don’t try to avoid the world so much. Maybe wear something that won’t set you off into an existential crisis if it gets a little mud on it—just saying!”
Joan chuckled, shaking her head. “Lessons learned. I’ll stick to more practical outfits. Just… maybe a small part of me wishes someone had at least said, ‘You’re about to ruin your day, Joan.’ Even if it was
after they got their laugh.”
Brooke giggled. “Maybe… but then again, what fun is a perfect picnic day if you don’t have a good story to tell at the end of it?”