lay off of my green suede shoes, cause, really, my mom will kill me.

This morning it started to rain while I was walking to class. I had this amazing urge to run back to my apartment and change my shoes. This is partly because they're new. But mostly, I think it has something to with the fact that they're suede.

When I was in fourth grade, I begged and pleaded for my mother to buy me a pair of shoes I had my eye on. They were gorgeous. They were high-tops, because those were cool then, and soft suede...and green. I'm not really sure what I was thinking, wanting green footwear. I remember it was a very pretty shade of green, but really, folks, green is green, and it doesn't go on your feet.

Mama was reluctant to even buy them for me, for all the obvious reasons. They were terribly impractical, expensive, and even my mother, with her limited fashion sense, realized they were ugly. But she relented, on the condition that I took very good care of them. I was the outdoorsy type then; I spent my afternoons wandering in the woods with my imaginary friends. Taking good care of my shoes meant that I was not to wear them when I was playing outside. Naturally I agreed with the best of intentions, and the shoes were mine.

You see where this story is going. You've seen enough episodes of Full House to know what is going to happen to my cherished shoes.

I admit it. I wore them outside while I was playing. But I justified it by the fact that I was sitting outside on the front deck. I wasn't on dirt or grass or anything. I wasn't running or jumping or doing frolicking movements of any kind. I was just sitting there, playing quietly, admiring the way my pretty green suede shoes shone in the sunlight. You can't blame me for not changing my shoes when I knew I was going to be so well-behaved.

It was at that point that a bird relieved itself on my right shoe.

What cruel twist of the Universe is this? I mean, how often does a bird fling its waste products at you? Once every 20 years, and this had to be the time and it had to land on the fabric that just won't wash. It was just too unfair.

We tried to wash it off. It left a big black blob on the shoe, and I didn't really want to wear them after that. Green suede shoes are cool, but green suede shoes with a black blob on one are not. I don't even know what happened to them after they fell out of favor.

But since then, I've been wary of wearing suede. Which is a dilemma, because I also love suede shoes, which probably stems from the same experience. When I do wear that wonderful and not machine-washable fabric, I'm protective of it, staying away from puddles, unpleasant weather, and aviaries. I surely know how Elvis felt. Those that wear stupidly colored suede shoes have to stick together.