More Embarrassing Than an Accidental Fart on a First Date

I, like everyone else, have my own personal list of humiliating moments in my life. I was hoping that at my age, I could stop revising it and adding new events, especially in the number 1 position. Unfortunately, this isn't the case. Particularly for someone like me, who gets embarrassed, oh so easily. Side note, I cannot explain the anomaly of my college years. I am usually a follow-the-rules, don't draw attention to yourself kind of girl. Four years spent in the frozen tundra of Syracuse proved otherwise. I can't even think of some of the mortifying and downright wrong attention that my friend, Adam, and I would draw upon ourselves. But, back on topic...

So, just recently, a new incident may have taken over the number 1 slot on my own personal hell list. It took place at our local Science Museum with my husband and both our sons. Take in mind, that this event was so bad, that it has blown past the time in San Francisco when I failed to realize that my husband had our next-door neighbor in the kitchen (I thought he was talking on the phone) and I proceeded to sing "Purple Rain' by Prince with a country-twang twist and dance around the the living room like a complete moron (My inspiration for such ridiculousness? Who knows.) I only found out when I heard the kitchen go "hear a pin-drop" quiet, the crickets begin to chirp and my husband then escort this neighbor out the door. I never made eye contact with that dude again. Ever. Or while on vacation with my parents in DC , my mom puking in the bushes at the Lincoln Memorial in front of CROWDS of people while I was pushing her wheelchair. (Don't ever get that lady drunk. She's rowdy and can't hold her margaritas.... I KID, MOM!)

As a Kindergarten teacher, I was standing with my students in the morning Pledge of Allegiance line when the most petite little girl in my class, cut the nastiest of all farts. Lucky me was standing right behind her and had parents on either side of me. I couldn't point out to the class and other parents that it was the girl and not me. That would be wrong! It definitely didn't help me when this said girl leaned over, giggled and said, "Teacher has icky farts!" The nerve! Why did I cover for her again? Speaking of farts, one night I was pregnant with my second boy and was feeling rather bloated. (Gross, I know, but what could a pregnant lady do?) Our friends were coming over for dinner that night and I thought I would tuck away and remedy my ills before they arrived. Of course, thinking I had the house to myself, I let the booms loose...only to hear my friend's husband cough politely in my living room. That stunk. In more ways than one.

I have so many stories, but I need to get to the point here, as we don't have all day, I know. Okay, so we're at the Science Center, enjoying a family day out. We were planning on heading right from the museum to an overnight trip out of town. I tried to simplify things and pack my clothes in my purse, trying to pack lightly. For years, I have been hassled by everyone for over packing. (I'm looking at you, Jennet) So, I packed one outfit, my tooth brush/paste and some face lotion and threw it in my bag. Look at me! I'm so low-maintenance and spontaneous! Time to backfire.

So we're having fun, blah, blah blah, when we find ourselves in the middle of the toddler play area. I'm watching T and my husband is with our older son. Boys are having fun, when I see this random dad staring at me. Yes, like in a creepy, crazy way. And I'm thinking, "WTF dude, what?" When I look up, he doesn't break eye contact and deliberately looks down at my feet. Because what should be laying there? My panties. My PANTIES. In the middle of the toddler play area. My panties had fallen out of my purse and were laying by the rocket ship climber. Why couldn't it have been my toothbrush? Or socks?! He's staring. His stare was a challenge to say, "Lady, you're weird, that's wrong and what are you going to do about it?" I could have done the easy thing and grabbed them quickly, stuffed them back in my bag, and high tailed it out of there. But no, that's requires a little common sense.

I looked down and the shame and embarrassment shot up my face like a blow torch on my skin. (Tangent alert: What happened to shame and embarrassment in this country? I'm starting to think they're on the endangered list as 80% of the population has an inability to feel them anymore. Exhibit A: Any show on VH1) I started to hyperventilate. I looked back at him, kicked the panties across the room and said, 'Gross! Who's are those?" Who does that?! Who kicks undies across a museum? Even if they hadn't been mine, why would I kick them and talk like a 12 year-old? And it was so OBVIOUS that they were mine, to make matters infinitely worse. So I grabbed my husband and told him;



Me: "You have to go retrieve my underwear".
Husband: "What? I have to WHAT?"
Me: "My panties! I dropped them by the rocket ship, you have to grab them.'
Husband: "Why did you take them off?"
Me: "No! They're for tomorrow, my packed clothes!"
Husband: 'Why did you bring your clothes in here and not leave them in the car?"
Me: "No time for logical questions NOW! "
Husband: 'So why am I stuck with this job?"
Me: "If I grab them, it will confirm they're mine.'
Husband : "And it won't if your husband does?"

In the end I convinced him (that poor man). How? I don't remember, but what matters is that I was in the clear. At this point, the Dad who first saw me, had found his wife and they were pointing at the undies, pointing at me and talking loudly for others to hear. I couldn't blame them of course, it was bizarre, but how could I explain myself now? "Listen, Random Dad at Museum, my overnight clothes fell out of my bag. Yes, they're mine and I'm going to go pick them up. No, I cannot explain why I kicked them." Fortunately, no kids has found them yet. I devised a plan to make it look like I just happened upon these chonies, just like the other dude. The plan was that my husband would pick them up and throw them in the trash. I couldn't have him do this barehanded, naturally, because, who would pick up "unknown" panties with their bare hands? So my husband, being the amazing actor that he is (THANK YOU Penn State Drama 101!), picked them up with a piece of paper, grimaced and threw them away while saying, "nasty". We took a deep breath and ran out of there, as fast as we could.


I felt better thinking, 'Okay, we dodged a bullet. That husband just thinks we did a good deed and NOT that I was a weirdo pretending that my undies were not my undies. Sigh of relief! I am so clever!". When in fact I bet the husband and wife were thinking, "Okay, so what exactly is going on with that woman where she kicks her own undies in disgust and her husband has to pick them up with a protective barrier?" Good question.