There was a time in my life when I wasn’t easily embarrassed. I had a one woman show in middle school. I used to perform SNL skits at family reunions. Y’all, I was the ultimate grand supreme winner of the Barksdale Elementary School lunchtime “Turn Your Face the Purplest Contest”—a contest I both invented and won when I passed out into my chicken noodle soup. (Nope. Not even kidding.)
How’s that for resume material?
I had NO shame—but in a good way. Not in the People of Walmart kind of way.
Shut up.
I’ve noticed lately, though, that I’m more and more self-conscious as I age. I attribute this to several things. First and foremost is my sinful nature that harbors a bit more “fear of man” (theologically speaking) than I’m willing to admit. I do care what people think, which is probably not at all evident by the things you have read even on this one post.
Also, I’m married. And Brian—sensitive man that he is—knows how I don’t like to be embarrassed in public. So, he looks for opportunities to do things like skip down the aisle at Target or sing songs from Cinderella so that everyone in Cracker Barrel can hear.
“BRI-AN, please stop! I’m trying to impress these people.”
I believe this is one of the reasons (the self-conscious narcissist in us all) that God created toddlers. Because, my friends, when you have a toddler, you have NO SHAME.
I got a lesson in shamelessness on New Year’s Eve when Brian and I decided to take the kids out to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant in Kansas City. Brian had skipped off to the bathroom to change Averi’s diaper (one reason I tolerate the skipping) while JJ and I sat side-by-side in the booth making a sizable dent in a basket of chips.
Suddenly, as if he had just been asked to demonstrate his most impressive “outside voice,” JJ exclaimed, “Mama, look! That man looks FUNNY!”
Which man, you ask?
Oh, just the 6’3” biker dude who was an harmonious mix between Hulk Hogan and Burt Reynolds. Actually, he looked a bit like this:
Only scarier.
[Is that even possible?]
He was the one who was no less than 3 feet from the megaphone that is my son’s mouth.
I practically crawled under the table as I shushed JJ—who, unfortunately, looks much older than his 3 years. Unfortunate in situations where people might say, “Doesn’t that 6-year-old know better than to act like a 3-year-old in public?”
But he didn’t stop there, friends. Because that wouldn’t have made for a very interesting blog post, would it? He continued…
“No, mama, look! THAT MAN…RIGHT THERE.” His arm was extended so far that his pointer finger practically touched the guy’s nose. “He looks FUNNY!”
My only hope was that this man’s mustache was so think and/or his cowboy hat was so tight that his hearing was impaired. I’ll probably never know because he gave no indication. At least, not from what I could see of him from my hiding place under the table.
When I told him the story of what had happened, Brian—sensitive man that he is—said to me, “Well, you wouldn’t have been embarrassed if you had changed Averi’s diaper.”
Now, (because I love stories like this one when they don’t involve me or my kids) I’d love to hear about a time your kid embarrassed you in public.
This was more embarrassing for my husband than me. We had taken the kids to a bounce house place one evening. My husband was being a cool dad and jumping around with my 3 year old son (at the time), Jackson. My husband double jumped Jackson and it was at this point, Jackson tweaked his knee somehow. We’re not quite sure. We ended up at Urgent Care because Jackson couldn’t walk and was in terrible pain. When asked what happened he simply told THE DOCTOR “My daddy did this too me.” I was certain that we were going to have a full scale investigation!
Katy, I recognize the house in your picture! Love you and your blog!