Embarrassing Moment

Mama’s Losin’ It

This weeks prompts at Mama Kat’s Writing workshop:

1.) Share your winter bucket list.
2.) Name a place in the world that you never want to visit.
3.) Bill Cosby once said, “My children love my mother and I tell my children, “That is NOT the same woman I grew up with, that is an old woman trying to get into heaven now.” How have your parents changed now that they’re grandparents?
4.) Tell us about a time something happened or something was said that gave you the chills.
5.) Share an embarrassing moment (these are always fun to read).

1.) I hate winter and all I’ll do is hole up at home with the heat.

2.) There’s no place I never want to visit!

3.) I love Cosby. That quote is funny, but my mom passed away 4 1/2 years ago and my dad is the same a**hole he’s always been.

4.) I tend to block out all emotions and fears so I can’t think of anything.

leaving me with number 5…

Let’s see, an embarrassing moment… I know there were so many of them, but it’s hard to recall. I tend to forget the unimportant stuff.

In seventh grade my mom would send in notes to the school asking to excuse my daughter’s absence, but she had menstrual cramps. “Mom,” I yelled, “My teacher is a man!” She would just shrug and force me to go on and take it in. I guess that was her way of making sure I didn’t try to get out of school.

When it was time for dinner, she would stick her head out the front door and yell “DINNER!” at the top of her lungs. Childhood friends still tease me about that one.

In High School, my math teacher would send me to the board just so she could laugh at what I was wearing. I was daring to be different at that time and wore a lot of sarongs, hammer pants and other ridiculous things.

I got to work one morning and hung up my coat and my boss points at me and says “Your slip is showing.” As I wasn’t wearing a slip I said, “Huh?” He pointed again. I looked down and saw that static cling had made my skirt ride up past the point of decency. Thankfully, I remembered to put on underwear that day.

I tripped getting up the stairs to the bus, went flying and landed in the lap of the elderly man sitting in the front seat.

I am clumsy and forgetful so there are a string of slip-ups, mix-ups, tumbles, falls, omissions and what-have-yous.

Then there was the time my husband got tickets to a cultural event. He told me it was casual and informal. A few hours before the event he gave me the ticket to put the address into the GPS. I read the invite, blinked twice and read it again. I looked up at my husband and said: “This is a formal event!” “Really?” he replied and went to change into his good black suit. I felt a rush of blood to my face. I ran to my closet: jeans, chinos, t-shirts, cardigans, more t-shirts, running clothes and one good-enough-for-a-business-casual-event dress hung there. “What am I going to wear?” I screamed in panic. I saw flashes of women I never met whispering about me like Jezebel as I walked in. Then I took a breath. I opened the garment bag of clothes I had put away three years ago after I had my son. I found a brown tweed and suede pant suit and a brown organza shirt with rhinestones and some high heels. I pulled it together. Who cares? I thought. That’s the beauty of being in your 40s. I cocked my fedora to the side with attitude. I’m a confident married woman and the mother of a three-year old. I’ll wear whatever I want and look good doing it. There. Take that world.

I don’t get embarrassed much anymore. I still blush, I can’t fight biology, but I just shrug and go on.

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