I Knew Better, I’m Doing Better

That’s Embarrassing

A couple of months ago, as I was walking down the street my toe hit the edge of the sidewalk, and I took a very ungraceful header to the ground.  I scraped my knee, ripped my pants, bruised my palms, and as I picked myself up and wanted to die, my husband asked if I was ok. I wanted to punch him.  This isn’t the first time I have experienced this humiliation, or the first time he has picked me up off the sidewalk.  Yes, I was sober.

I have put my foot in a pothole and fallen in front of a bridal party that were getting on a party bus. I experienced another sidewalk incident and was lucky enough to have a group of young guys behind me to witness, they laughed and stepped over me. So, after the most recent humiliation I was thinking about all of my embarrassing moments.

In my 20’s I was on the beach with my boyfriend and his friends and their girlfriends.  I was sitting on the sand trying to be cool, wearing a bathing suit, drinking a beer.  When it happened.  A warm, wet, splat on my shoulder.  I could feel it on the side of my face, and I knew that this was most definitely not a rain drop.  I won’t go into the humiliation, or how that group of friends referred to me as Bird Girl from then on.  I will say this boyfriend was quite gallant and used his t-shirt to clean me up.

When I was pregnant with my first I let one go in front of my boss and employees, I wanted to die.  As my boss walked away the staff started tittering and thought it was him.  I obviously never confessed.  Once you’ve been Bird Girl you just let those things go.

No pun intended.

 

If you want to read another post of embarrassing moments that involve flatulence, please, be my guest.

Flatulence, or a Blog Post about Farts

 

 

Please follow and like us:
Tagged , , ,

About Melinda

Navigating life as an over 50 Goddess. Empty nester, twice married, once divorced, Mom, Stepmom, Miniature Dachshund owner, Post Menopausal, Canadian, all with a little humour and learning that When I Knew Better, I Did Better. I hope.
View all posts by Melinda →

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *