We Can Laugh About It Now!




Okay, the Pet Peeve page was fun. And according to the Page Stats, it was a popular post, though for some reason, not everyone likes to comment. Maybe that’s one of their pet peeves?  

Anyway, let’s do it again. Only this time, let’s see how many responders we have in sharing our most embarrassing moment/s. I’m sure, like me, you may have some that caused you to consider changing your identity. Then there are those that—as they say—“we can laugh about now”! Well... maybe.

I wrote of an awkward incident in a post a few months ago that took place in church, no less. You can read about that here. 

So, let me see. Do I share with you about the fashion show in high school in which I discovered too late that red “under things” scream “I’m here!” beneath white slacks on a well-lit stage? I think it was the laughter in the audience when I did “the turn” with my back to the crowd that gave it away, as well as the judges’ written critique! 

Or the time I decided to work on my tan in the driveway of our country home which faced away from the road that was at least 100 yards from our home, where NO ONE could see. And I didn’t want any tan lines, if you know what I mean. I learned that cranking the radio so loudly that you can’t even hear the antenna repair truck as it crossed the noisy cattle guards is not a good idea. Lying in a reclining lawn chair, eyes closed, my head and feet keeping time with the music, I glanced to my left to see an older driver and much younger helper . . . smiling. ( have no idea how long they had been there) I don’t know who was most embarrassed. I honestly don’t remember what happened after that. It’s all a blur. I learned later that my husband had called them, but forgot to notify me of their arrival. (Urge to strangle) 

Then more recently, I spent a few days in the hospital for a worsening illness. As typical, the shift change calls for vitals in the wee hours of the morning. Half-asleep, I managed a weak smile as the young nurse and I exchanged greetings. I should have stopped there. Her scrubs were loose, tied high on the ribs. (You know where this is going don't you?) I asked the question one must NEVER ask unless absolutely certain--
"When is your baby due?"
The ghastly look on her face quickly answered my question, but she replied very flatly, "I'm not pregnant. I do have one child at home."

I thought for a moment I'd been rescued. Again, I should have stopped . . . but I didn't. "Oh, how old is your little one (thinking possibly a new born or even a few months old?"

With a bit of a scowl she added, "He's four."

I seriously thought about changing hospitals.

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And there are more, but I’ll end with that one. Never a dull moment! 

Come on now! I know you have some. Play along.