Well, embarrassment seems to be a popular theme to write about. The cool thing about this topic is that in the moment, our egos and self-confidence are in the toilet. But with time, experience and maturity, we can look back on those awful embarrassing incidents with a simple “guffaw.” I think it’s because we live life and have so many more layers of embarrassing moments that some of those, early on, become insignificant.
My son Matt, who in yesterday’s blog, humiliated his daughter, had a couple of whizbangers himself. There is the day he was riding his bike on Pleasant Run Parkway, trying to impress a couple of gals named Kelly and Megan. As he looked their way and flashed that big flirtatious smile at these young ladies, he plowed right in the back of a parked car. Having a little problem with your mojo, Matt?
Or the time he was invited to a neighborhood birthday party for the above mentioned, Megan. As Matt juggled his cake and red punch he decided to go through the patio door and enjoy the festivities inside. One small problem. The screen door was shut, and Matt did not notice such. As he walked into that screen, his red punch slopped all down the front of his shirt. Can we say ‘Hawaiian Punch’ for the Hawaiian?
That’s the problem with life. We amble through our days only to trip and fall. With an audience watching. Today, we have the added pleasure of being recorded and finding our foibles on somebody’s FB page. Or in their blogs. Have we no sense of decency?
Okay. I will share a high school event that still makes me feel like the village idiot. It is an odd happening. Would you expect anything else from me? So, I had gym class and was in a huge rush to get to study hall, which was in opposite ends of the building. Back in the seventies, we still wore panty hose and dresses, from time to time. Somehow, in my mad rush and fear of being tardy I did not notice an old mop string on the locker room floor. Don’t ask me how I did not realize it was encapsulated between my foot and my nylons, but hey—who is really sane in high school?
Well, I dashed to my class, only to feel something snaking up my ankle. Yep, the mop string had come to life. As I endeavored to work my short legs to the opposite ends of Howe High School, the gross, ugly string had relocated its ugly self for all to see. I was eager to die.
Landing in my assigned seat just as roll was being called, I sat there bending my legs and wrapping them to hide the string. I must have looked like a very bad contortionist or a human pretzel. Think that attracted more attention to me? Hmmm. You must realize that I was painfully shy in high school. Especially when sporting mop strings beneath my panty hose.
The ugly, rude boy sitting next to me finally assuaged my nervousness by commenting quite loudly, “What the hell is on your leg?” Couldn’t he have just whispered, “Excuse me Deb, but your mop string, while a very nice color of wash-water gray, is moving up your ankle and is not getting that designer effect you are going for.” Sigh. I then sought permission to go to the ladies’ room and extract said string from my skin.
Wonder how long it took that kid to find that string hanging off his nasty sweater. Embarrassment, when countered by revenge, can be quite sweet.
Suffice it to say, that I have had an unknown number of embarrassing moments. Heck, you may have been with me when these occurred–or if you are lucky–I embarrassed you, as well!
What’s that you said? Knowing me is an embarrassment?
I just know that these emotional wounds heal and the scars they leave are worth remembering. We must own our moments of stupidity and just continue with the journey.
And leave those ugly mop strings in the locker room of life.