you should check first before you wear your shoes, it may something in the shoe

The morning rush is a universal, relentless beast. It snarls outside the bedroom door, paws impatiently at the coffee maker, and whispers insidious promises of lateness into the ear of anyone foolish enough to linger. On such mornings, efficiency is king, and every second is a precious, non-renewable resource.

This was certainly the case for Arthur. His alarm had sung its shrill, cheerful lie of a tune a full fifteen minutes ago, and he was already behind. Keys? Wallet? Phone? Check. Laptop bag? Slung over a shoulder. Coffee? Half-drained, lukewarm, but still providing a vital caffeine-laced promise of consciousness.

All that remained was the final, critical step: the shoes.

His trusty, ancient sneakers lay by the door, mute and seemingly harmless. Without a second thought, Arthur braced himself, foot poised for the familiar slide into their welcoming, albeit slightly scuffed, embrace. His left foot went in seamlessly. Pure, unadulterated comfort.

Then came the right.

His toes met, not with the expected cushioned sole, but with… a resistance. A distinct, yielding give that was entirely wrong. Not hard, not sharp, but undeniably alive. A soft, squishy, yet firm pressure, like stepping on a very large, very cold, and very surprised… something.

Arthur froze, mid-crouch, his balance momentarily precarious. The faint, almost imperceptible sensation sent a shiver up his spine. His first thought, a primal, caveman-esque fear, painted a vivid mental image of a monstrous spider, all hairy legs and malevolent eyes, now flattened beneath his heel. Or perhaps a slug, leaving behind a trail of viscous… no, he couldn’t finish that thought.

He slowly, meticulously, withdrew his foot. The sneaker looked innocent enough from the outside, a regular canvas shoe. But the internal landscape clearly held a secret. He peered in, tilting it towards the scant morning light, bracing himself.

A flicker of emerald green. Two wide, surprised eyes.

It wasn’t a spider. It wasn’t a slug.

It was a tiny, utterly bewildered tree frog, no bigger than his thumb, blinking up at him from the toe of his sneaker. It had clearly found a cozy, dark hideaway during the night, perhaps after a particularly adventurous escapade in the garden. Its little throat pulsed in a tiny, rhythmic beat, a miniature heart undoubtedly thrumming with confusion.

Arthur let out a half-gasp, half-chuckle. The absurdity of it. The sheer wrongness of stepping on a frog in his shoe on a Tuesday morning. He gently tipped the sneaker, and the little amphibian, after a moment of deliberation, executed a perfect, silent hop onto the floorboards, pausing to send one last bewildered glance his way before disappearing under the console table.

The incident was over in thirty seconds, but its lesson lingered. Arthur picked up his shoe again, shook it out thoroughly, and then, almost ritualistically, peered inside before sliding his foot in. The familiar, mundane comfort had never felt so good.

It’s easy to rush through life, to assume familiarity, to take the path of least resistance. We grab our keys, our phones, our coffee, and our shoes, with a kind of blind faith that everything is as it should be. But life, much like a sneaker left carelessly by the back door, has a habit of collecting unexpected occupants. A misplaced Lego brick, a forgotten coin, a bunched-up sock that feels like a tumor. Or, occasionally, a tiny, adventurous amphibian seeking shelter.

The simple act of checking your shoes before you wear them is more than just a practical safeguard against an uncomfortable jolt. It’s a metaphor. It’s a reminder to pause, to be mindful, to cast a quick glance into the hidden corners of your day, your tasks, your assumptions, before you fully commit.

A quick shake, a gentle peek, a moment of attention isn’t just about avoiding a squishy surprise. It’s about being prepared. It’s about acknowledging that sometimes, the most mundane things can hold the most unexpected secrets, the most charming interruptions, or the most inconvenient obstacles.

So, the next time you reach for your shoes, take a beat. Pause. Check first. You never know what tiny, unexpected resident – be it a pebble, a forgotten note, or a little green frog – might be waiting to share your journey. And sometimes, that moment of checking, that brief pause for awareness, is exactly what you need to start your day with a chuckle, a clear mind, and a grateful step.