One thing you should never ask the Fedex guy.

A neighbor and friend of mine- who for the purposes of this post will be called Mrs. Ed- is a horse breeder, trainer and competitive rider.  She loves horses and is incredibly knowledgable and enthusiastic about what she does.   She told me the other day that her brood mare was in heat and that she had to “order an overnight from the stallion” to whom she was breeding the mare.  Since the stallion of her choice was in another state they had to get “the goods” shipped quickly in order to inseminate the mare.   

 

Late the next day she walked up our driveway.  After neighborly chatting about weather and kids I asked how things were going with her mare.  She said the Fedex guy had been there early that morning with her overnight shipment from the stallion’s owner.  She had been watching the clock anxiously because she needed to coordinate the shipment’s arrival with her veterinarian. 

 

She was so relieved when Mr. Fedex pulled into her driveway that she ran out and greeted him by saying,

“Hey!  You’re here right on time.  Got some semen for me?”

 

I’m not kidding.  She actually said it to him.  Just like that!  Now I knew I’d moved to the country, but, wow! 

 

So this got me thinking.  I know I’ve said some embarassing things.  I goosed a blonde woman (she looked like my mother from behind) with my cart at the grocery store and said, “Hey there.  Whatcha making for dinner?”  When she turned around and I saw that she was a 20 year old and not the 55 year old who gave birth to me I made it worse by saying, “Wow.  I’m sorry!  I thought you were my Mom.”  I think that was my punishment for intending to be naughty to my Mommy.

 

I have an easier time remembering embarassing things other people have said than dumb things I’ve said.  (Defense mechanism for my pride, I’m sure.)  My Dad was shopping for chicken to make for dinner quite a few years ago.  He was new to grocery shopping and couldn’t figure out why the store brand boneless, skinless chicken breasts were so much cheaper than the big label ones.  Never being one to pass up a learning opportunity my Dad approached a female employee who was restocking the meat coolers in the store.  He held up a package of name brand chicken and asked, “What’s the difference between your breasts and these?”

 

Back when we were still in college, my dearest friend worked at a sub shop and one of the least groomed and rudest specimens of humanity inhabiting our town came in near closing time.  My friend was working the shift alone and was flustered not only at having a customer 5 minutes before locking doors, but having this particular customer in the store.  She bucked up, pulled herself together and said, “Hi.  May I love you?”  Whoops.

 

At one of my myriad obstetrician visits my then 6 year old son leaned over my very large lap to stare at the 50-something-year-old woman sitting on my other side.  He examined her face very carefully, swivelled his little head so he was looking at me and using the only tone of voice he has-supersonic loud- said, “Mommy!  Why does she,” gesticulating wildly at the woman, “have a moustache?”  Oh death, take me now.

 

Another time while walking through a big box stores with one of my hundreds of sons I was praying very hard that they would not notice the woman walking next to us.  She was a whole lot of gal to be squeezing into shiny spandex hot pants.  She was sashaying and preening like she wanted the whole world to notice her.  She got her wish.  I did not.  That particular 5 year old son of mine said in a way that sounded way too much like admiration to me, “MOM!  She has the biggest, shiniest butt I’ve ever seen!”  I almost leaped into a rack of sweatpants.

 

Here’s my question, then…  What embarassing things have you or your kids said and done?  And have you ever noticed if you say the word “embarass” out loud that it contains an state of being that would indeed embarass you?  And if it wouldn’t embarass you, maybe you should have some shame!  What would your Mom say?

 

Comments

  1. Daina says

    In 8th grade (or maybe it was 7th), we were learning the metric system or something in science class by using stainless steel ball bearings on a double scale to measure the weights of objects. We sat at long tables, and the boy in front of me kept taking my ball bearings. Frustrated, I finally blurted out “GO PLAY WITH YOUR OWN BALLS”. Everyone stopped what they were doing, the kid turned back around, and never bothered me again in class. (I however was mortified at what came out of my, back then, very extremely painfully shy mouth!)

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