Stories From My Closet: The Quack In My Rebel Sneaker


A cute little yellow rubber ducky next to graphic coffee mug with slogan Just Ducky full of colorful little plastic toy animals.

You know you’re a fashion misfit when you have no problems wearing any outfit, no matter how fancy, with sneakers.

Here’s a story from my closet about that time my rebel sneaker nearly drove me mad.

Just ducky.
I had a duck in my sneaker that was driving me crazy. Every time I took a step with my right foot, it made this quacking sound. Quack! Quack! Quack!

I tried turning my foot, pointing my toe, stepping with my heel, stomping, all to no effect. Except maybe confirming to all my neighbors that yes, indeed, I am certifiably insane as I hobbled and lurched my way down the street every day.

Nothing worked. I kept quacking on. So I started avoiding quiet streets where there was little other noise to mask my quacking. Why did this happen, you ask? Well, the simple answer is that after I washed my sneakers, the right shoe was never quite the same. The metaphysical answer is that this experience was some kinda lesson for me to learn.

I had to stop caring so much about looking like an idiot.

Because I was obsessing, ya see. I was letting the quacking drive me crazy. I was not gonna let this rebel sneaker get the best of me. But the more I resisted, the louder the quacks became.

You could say that I was in denial of reality. The quacking was not acceptable to me. But at some point, I had to surrender. I had to get over myself. Half my neighborhood walks around blasting brain-shrinking tunes, and here I was worried about my shoe quacking. I mean, it’s not like what others think about my quacking is even that important to me. F*** it.

And of course, that’s when it happened.

When I gave up resisting and forgot about it altogether the quacking stopped.

I can’t even tell you exactly when it stopped because I'd stopped paying attention. One day I found myself walking down the street completely quack-less.

Oh, the insanity of obsessing over little unimportant things. And I know I’m not alone here. So, I ask you, why do we do it?

Lots of happy yellow rubber duckies, pink flamingo duckies, and white unicorn duckies of various sizes crowded together.

To quack or not to quack.
I don’t have the answer. But maybe it has to do with wanting to control things. It makes us feel like the world isn’t such a scary place. I don’t know, maybe we can’t help it. It’s the way our minds work. Thinking turns into obsessing when you latch on to your thoughts like a dog with a bone.

I am now quack-less and fully aware of my non-quacking. It’s a relief to not sound like I’ve got a duck in my sneaker. Or let’s be brutally honest here - like I’m releasing little quack-like sounding farts with every step.

Yeah, I’m happy the quack is gone. I don’t need that kind of attention. Believe you me. But wouldn’t ya know it, now that he's gone, I miss the little quack. I know this may sound wacky but I kinda wish I could summon my sneaker to quack one more time. So I could give my little quack a heartfelt goodbye.

Bye-bye, my little quack! Thanks for showing up in my life to remind me about what’s important. Come back whenever you want. Smile.


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