My 5 Most Embarrassing Moments


In no specific order:

  1. Joanne - First GradeI was 7, some people referred to me as being very demure for my age, and I was usually seen and not heard (because my Great Grandfather preferred children this way).  My Uncle John, Grandfather, Roy, and Dad, Frank, had just returned to the farm in Glenn Dale, Maryland, with a new Jersey cow on board inside a paneled truck.  brown_cowIt was a steamy hot summer afternoon.  As the whole family waited in great anticipation, they flung open the back doors of the truck.  And there it was–the cow.  But much more–the odors and sights inside startled me so, I immediately shouted to the top of my lungs; “My God, that cow’s done sh– all over the place”  And, just as funny–my grandfather had been sitting in the center seat of the truck’s bench front seat.  And he said; “And, I thought that that was just sweat rolling down my back!”
  2. In 8th grade following a few days off due to heavy snow and icing, I was trying to navigate down the hill to the entrance of my Junior High School.  Just before I started my trek down a fellow 8th grader (who I happened to have a crush on) appeared beside me.  And then it happened.  On my very next step, I hit a bad patch of ice.  With books flying everywhere, I tumbled head over heals a couple of times.  When I finally came to a halt in a partially seated position, my dress and coat were up to my waist.  Yes, he stopped to help me pick up my books, but I could never look him in the eyes again.
  3. In 1966, following one of Bob’s summer evening baseball games on the mall downtown, we usually stopped for pizza at a local restaurant.  I want to say that I was about 4-to-5 months pregnant with our first child.  pizzaBob, as usual, was placing our order.  He said in his put on Italian dialect; “I’d like a medium piece of …,” (and it wasn’t pizza!).  We both were mortified, but as pregnant as I was, I think I made a very brave and bold attempt to slip down under the table.
  4. All of our three children were born at the Columbia Hospital for Women in Washington, DC.  Columbia Hospital was a teaching hospital.
    English: The Columbia Hospital for Women, now ...

    The Columbia Hospital for Women, now known as The Columbia Residences, located at 2425 L Street, N.W., in the West End neighborhood of Washington, D.C.. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    With our third child, Jennifer, the doctor induced my labor at the hospital because my previous deliveries had taken only a few hours and he wanted to be sure all of us were near the hospital when my labor began.   However, Jennifer seemed to have a mind of her own, (yep, even then).  laborMy cervix dilated to 3 centimeters and then productive labor went on hold.  And, to boot (hmmm, freudian slip, I think), Jennifer was not properly positioned in the birth canal for a normal delivery.  Bob became too upset so he left the labor room and as typically depicted in stories and sitcoms, went to the bar to get a drink to calm down. So, after I agreed to do some exercises to reposition her, the doctors and nurses stood outside a curtained window that opened up for everyone’s easy viewing of the exercise session.  As if the pain of labor wasn’t enough!

  5. Our second child, Jeff, attended Barnaby Woods Summer Camp when he was about 10.  To finish out the summer, parents were invited to attend a closing program where they got to see their children perform in skits and receive awards for areas where they excelled.  All summer long, Jeff had had a crush on a little girl named Danielle.  As the day drew near, Jeff asked if we could pick up Danielle and her mother because they needed a ride.  When we picked them up Jeff began staring at Danielle’s mother quizzically and back again at Danielle.  Danielle’s mom was not unfamiliar with these kinds of stares.  You see, this was the first moment that Jeff realized that Danielle was of a different race than he was.  It was an uncomfortable few moments at first, but we mothers just exchanged glances and grinned through it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s