Ever since I posted one of my most embarassing moments on the blog I've been pestering Dave to tell one of his. He was reluctant to (as apparently are all three of my readers) until yesterday morning when I was startled awake at 6:45 am. He flipped on the light and came racing up the attic stairs half laughing, half yelling, "You want to know my most embarassing moment - it just happened! I missed my 5 am flight and just spent the past half hour on the phone trying to figure out how to get to Grenada without having to rebook and spend $1,400." I heard the shower start and through half-open eyes saw him stripping down. "So," he yelled over the sound of the running water. "We need to decide - should I try to make the 8:00 flight, or should we fork out another $1,400?"
I am not one to wake up quickly - except when there's vomit involved and that's a whole different story - so I mumbled something and rolled over. And then thought, "Is he serious? Could he really have missed his flight? Should he really go today? After all, he was gone last night and the kids didn't get to see him at all and then he'll be gone until Sunday. Now he's going to miss the Mardi Gras party. He's not even packed at all - is he?? $1,400 - $1,400!!!" I jumped out of bed. He was already out of the shower and the scramble began.
We raced downstairs - the suitcase was already open at the bottom of the stairs, his shaving kit still in the travel bag from our weekend trip to Detroit Lakes, and clean clothes were in a laundry basket waiting to be taken upstairs and put away. I grabbed underwear from the laundry basket, he grabbed a pile of shorts and shirts from the futon and we just started throwing things in. I got out his shaving kit - he exchanged one razor for another and it was ready to go. He threw in work folders and a pair of socks. I questioned the lone pair of socks but don't know if we ever got an answer... I guess he can always buy socks if he needs them. I told Sophie she needed to get off the laptop (Webkinz you know) and she went to the chair and pouted, "Dad already kicked me off the big computer, now the laptop too!" He said "Sorry, sorry, sorry... Daddy made a mistake" and she realized we were rushing around so all the kids just got out of the way... eyes big watching us as we fired off questions at each other..."Do you have the extra laptop battery? Where is it? What about your work files? Where's your passport?"
His carry-on and passport were at the office - so we threw all the carry-on items, including the laptop, into a grocery bag. He hugged us all, kissed us all, said sorry for what seemed like the millionth time and with a "Just drive carefully" from me, he was out the door headed to the office and then the airport by a little after 7. The kids and I ate breakfast together, laughed a little at what just happened and before they left for school we got a call from Dave telling us he made it onto the first plane.
Whew - is all I can say. Oh, and I feel sorry for whoever was sitting next to him on the plane - he'd been running.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Friday, February 01, 2008
Embarassing Moments
What's your most embarassing moment? I'm sure we can all come up with at least one but there are usually many more in our repertoire. To get the conversation going, I'll share one of mine from about 30 years ago. Here goes...
Motorhomes were the big thing in the late 1970's and early 1980's - my family had one that took us on trips to California and Mexico one year and Washington, DC and Florida the next. Grandma and Grandpa had a mini-version of the motorhome - I loved its quaintness and the cozy feeling I got whenever I was doing dishes in it or just sprawled out reading a book on the cushions. Sometimes when RJ and I were at their house we snuck in so we could pretend we were on our own with a camper - Grandma never liked it much when we did that.
One summer, when I was about 12, they took me, just me, with them on a weekend getaway to Killarney, Manitoba. I packed up my books and my bikini and looked forward to swimming and time with just the two of them. We parked close to the lake and set up the table and chairs in the shade and off I went to the swimming area. There were lots of other pre-teens and teenagers there - and they all seemed to be in big groups. I felt like I was the only person all by myself - and I was a little uncomfortable but not brave enough to go introduce myself to anybody. I just hung out on the beach and then decided to swim out to the floating raft in what seemed like the middle of the lake. I told Grandma I was going to do this and she said, "Are you sure? Be careful." I did my best American Crawl and though I veered off course a few times (as I always do with the crawl) I made it to the raft just fine. Once I hoisted myself up I saw a group of three girls sunning themselves - they were totally self confident and, I could tell at a glance, totally into their looks. Their hair was all wet and slicked back and they had perfect tans - you know the type.
There was a diving board on the raft and I made my way right to it. I dove off the first time, hoisted myself back up on the raft, and then did a flip, followed by more dives. When I got tired I decided to rest on the raft. I picked a spot a few feet away from the girls but I noticed them watching me as I walked over. In fact, I'd noticed them watching me every time I went to the diving board. I thought to myself, "I bet they think I'm pretty good at diving and swimming" and was thrilled when one of them stood up and walked over to me. I thought, "I bet she'll ask me my name and ask me to sit by them." I smiled up at her and she said, "Um, you might want to know that your top is up." My smile froze on my face as I looked down and saw the top piece of my two piece was almost to my collarbone and those breast buds that I was always so careful to hide were bare for the world to see. I muttered, "Thanks." Then I yanked down my top, ran to the diving board and dove in, heading to the beach. I stayed underwater for as long as I could, cheeks burning red and lungs ready to explode. I finally surfaced, grabbed my towel from the chair by Grandma and hung out in the safe refuge of the camper for the rest of the day - mad at myself for being so cocky and too embarassed to go back to the beach since I had no idea who'd seen my bare breasts.
So - what's your story? We'd love to laugh and commiserate with you.
Motorhomes were the big thing in the late 1970's and early 1980's - my family had one that took us on trips to California and Mexico one year and Washington, DC and Florida the next. Grandma and Grandpa had a mini-version of the motorhome - I loved its quaintness and the cozy feeling I got whenever I was doing dishes in it or just sprawled out reading a book on the cushions. Sometimes when RJ and I were at their house we snuck in so we could pretend we were on our own with a camper - Grandma never liked it much when we did that.
One summer, when I was about 12, they took me, just me, with them on a weekend getaway to Killarney, Manitoba. I packed up my books and my bikini and looked forward to swimming and time with just the two of them. We parked close to the lake and set up the table and chairs in the shade and off I went to the swimming area. There were lots of other pre-teens and teenagers there - and they all seemed to be in big groups. I felt like I was the only person all by myself - and I was a little uncomfortable but not brave enough to go introduce myself to anybody. I just hung out on the beach and then decided to swim out to the floating raft in what seemed like the middle of the lake. I told Grandma I was going to do this and she said, "Are you sure? Be careful." I did my best American Crawl and though I veered off course a few times (as I always do with the crawl) I made it to the raft just fine. Once I hoisted myself up I saw a group of three girls sunning themselves - they were totally self confident and, I could tell at a glance, totally into their looks. Their hair was all wet and slicked back and they had perfect tans - you know the type.
There was a diving board on the raft and I made my way right to it. I dove off the first time, hoisted myself back up on the raft, and then did a flip, followed by more dives. When I got tired I decided to rest on the raft. I picked a spot a few feet away from the girls but I noticed them watching me as I walked over. In fact, I'd noticed them watching me every time I went to the diving board. I thought to myself, "I bet they think I'm pretty good at diving and swimming" and was thrilled when one of them stood up and walked over to me. I thought, "I bet she'll ask me my name and ask me to sit by them." I smiled up at her and she said, "Um, you might want to know that your top is up." My smile froze on my face as I looked down and saw the top piece of my two piece was almost to my collarbone and those breast buds that I was always so careful to hide were bare for the world to see. I muttered, "Thanks." Then I yanked down my top, ran to the diving board and dove in, heading to the beach. I stayed underwater for as long as I could, cheeks burning red and lungs ready to explode. I finally surfaced, grabbed my towel from the chair by Grandma and hung out in the safe refuge of the camper for the rest of the day - mad at myself for being so cocky and too embarassed to go back to the beach since I had no idea who'd seen my bare breasts.
So - what's your story? We'd love to laugh and commiserate with you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)