Pin It When I read the topic for today's post, my immediate thought was jeez...my entire life is a series of embarrassing moments. There was the time my mother conducted some heavy-handed flirting with the cute security guard at the White House, while I, a super-sensitive thirteen, stood by and cringed. There was the time I tripped and fell into the guy in front of me as we were walking in the Dell at Lynchburg College...which wouldn't, actually, have been a big deal--except it was during our graduation procession, and is now on film for all posterity.
Another time, I "won" a spelling bee...but not really--they just thought I had because my southern accent was too thick to distinguish between a's and o's. I genuinely thought I had spelled warlock correctly, and told the newspaper so. "Miss Wray, can you tell us how you spelled warlock?" "Oh, sure! I spelled it w-o-r-l-o-c-k!" You can just imagine how that was reported.
There was the time I decided I could ride bikes with the big boys, and sailed on down the hill at Westbrook Circle. I was doing great, pink streamers singing out from my handlebars, braids flying out behind me. I was Winning. And then the curb at the foot of the hill rose up in front of me, a monolith to instant destruction I hadn't prepared for. I had no brakes. I swung sharply to the side, and somehow careened over the curb sideways and upside down...it was amazing. And humiliating. I cried.
And oh--there was this one time, on the schoolbus. There was that boy in the fifth grade on whom I had a crush...he broke my little fourth grade heart. I stared at him in awe when he turned around in his seat to look at me, his perfectly coiffed blonde locks with their feathered formation a sharp contrast to my uneven bowl cut, his piercing baby blue eyes locked quizzically on mine. It was a moment. Eternity in a second. It was meant to be. I'd been dreaming of this forever. Jeremy, my heart sang. He was almost...my...boyfriend...he's going to ask to me to marry him... And then I did it. I stuck out my tongue at him. I have no idea, to this day, why I did it. Nervousness, I suppose, blended with a healthy dose of stupidity. Jeremy's quizzicism turned to scorn, and he turned back around in his seat without a word.
There is no real competition for my most embarrassing moment, though. So much so, in fact, that I contemplated ignoring it. After all, if I don't tell you, you'll never know.
But that would be cheating.
So here it is. The ultimate baring of my soul.
After I gave birth to Autumn at 23 years-old, I was still in incredible physical shape. (Not to be confused with now.) I lost all my baby weight within a few weeks (please don't hate me...I'm paying for it now, I promise), and was itching to get back out on the volleyball court. I was serving as assistant coach at the time of the JV high school team, and we had a scrimmage scheduled for adults versus girls, so I decided I would get out there and play in that game.
It was awesome. It was so nice to be out there serving, hitting, passing, and even doing a little diving--when strictly necessary, of course. The game concluded, and we began putting the equipment away. I was chatting with Nick, the Latin teacher whose classroom was next door to mine,when I noticed a look of consternation on his face.
"What is it?"
He pointed, and then doubled over, hands on his knees. "Aaaaaaah....sorry...can't help it. I'm pretty sure those are your what-a-ya-callits."
Those "what-a-ya-callits" were my nursing pads, which were scattered across the floor a short distance away. "Holy mammary glands!" I exploded, and swiftly grabbed them up. I guess they had fallen out while I was busy bouncing to and fro across the court, blithely unaware of the devastation to my mama's wardrobe. I forced myself--and Nick--to finish our conversation, until the restrained laughter did us both in, and we parted ways.
How. Udderly. Embarrassing.