i don’t get embarrassed very easily, but i guess we’ll count this one

30 Nov

while daddyjay and i like to eat yummy food, we didn’t always cook for ourselves. sure, we cooked if what you mean by cooked is to toss a can of tuna and la soeur peas into mac and cheese. anyhoo – when we lived in austin and were DINKS (sorry, i hate that term) had 2 jobs and were childless, we went out to eat a lot. scratch that. we went out to breakfast a lot.

mind you, this was in our carefree, hippie days. the days when i would wake up naked and throw on a skirt and tank and nothing more. i wouldn’t even need to wear a bra now if it wasn’t for the 53 and a half months of breastfeeding i’ve done in the last 7 and a half years.

one saturday, just about 8 years ago, we went to my favorite breakfast place, magnolia. i was wearing a beloved maroon and mulit-colored paisley skirt that i bought in canterbury, england, a white spaghetti strap tank, and green j. crew flip flops. i always wore that tank with that skirt (that i still have and need to repair) and those flip flops . yes, i remember the outfit. yes, it makes all the difference.

we were waiting for our table on the picnic benches out front, ruminating on the growing lives inside of me while laughing at the runners and bikers who came to eat fresh from their morning workout still clothed in their spandex and moisture-wicking shirts. we never understood why they didn’t just go home, shower, and eat in fresh duds. not to mention the fact that i wouldn’t have to smell the 50 miles they rode that morning or 10k they ran.

a girl no more than 14 sat next to us with her mom for half of our wait. we were called first, and daddyjay got up to go inside. i went to follow, but stopped short. i should have known better than to push through the catch i felt. i shouldn’t have been so anxious to continue our conversation about the babies. i should have been patient enough to compose myself before i forced my limbs off of the picnic table bench and got my flip flop stuck in the edge of my skirt.

my ass poked out first. then, my favorite skirt teased by pulling a little further to expose my right hip. the young girl noticed and i noticed her noticing. i pulled my skirt up before i went full frontal on the poor girl, her mom, the bikers and runners, and everyone else waiting to eat a prima dora omelet with a side of gingerbread and banana pancakes. i mumbled something, flushed, and ran over to daddyjay who missed the entire episode.

and let me tell you how grateful i am that he missed it because i would never hear the end of it if he had seen my tochas hanging out for the world to see. it would be one of those epic teases that never gets old. kinda like that one time i said, “secondy-second” instead of twenty-two.

why, yes, i do have a bachelor’s degree. why do you ask?

*this post is spurred by the amazing and hilarious flinger who has been searching the blogosphere for writers and is calling on us to jus write. i once fancied myself a writer and haven’t spent much time doing it in the last few years. maybe this is the impetus i need to concentrate on making my writing better. after a month of barfing it out every day, maybe a real call to action will keep me focused on the task.

so here’s my {w}rite-of-passage. i’m going to do my best to keep up with it.


4 Responses to “i don’t get embarrassed very easily, but i guess we’ll count this one”

  1. Ruth of fat loss for idiots December 3, 2009 at 7:51 pm #

    LOL “…if he had seen my tochas hanging out for the world to see.”

    omg, I am sorry but I can’t stop laughing

  2. amylouwho December 1, 2009 at 9:55 pm #

    that’s hilarious!

    I had a full on naked experience with a nurse in France who I thought had said take everything off. When she looked at me funny and said you can put your pants on I’m pretty sure I turned so red I was purple.

    It was a chest x-ray. I should have been able to figure out what to take off….

    I have a bachelor’s too. But not in French.

  3. tara December 1, 2009 at 4:48 pm #

    I dont think I can top your embarassing moment. I dont embarass very easy. Not because I am so beyond it but because I have had the embarassment embarasssed out of me. Just today I ran after chickens on our road wearing a vintage bright red wool jacket with faux leopard collar and cuffs. I picked up the jacket to sell on etsy. Again, I was the crazy woman with chickens and peacocks. meh.
    The girl will be telling that story forever. “Remember when I saw that naked lady…?”

  4. cIII December 1, 2009 at 1:57 pm #

    Almost the very same reason that I quit wearing boxers when playing soccer. Stupid loosey-goosey undergarments.

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