Why is it that I seem to attract more than my fair share of embarrassing moments? If you think injecting myself in the thumb with an EpiPen is the stupidest thing I’ve done this month, think again.
I was at the grocery store a couple weeks ago, and I had on these FAB green flats that I picked up on sale before Christmas.
(I love saying fab. I haven’t gotten up the nerve to say it in real life, though. I can only type it. What’s up with that?)
I was walking through the dairy aisle when I felt something squishy under my foot. Upon closer investigation I discovered a piece of cheese smeared on the bottom of my shoe. EW! I knew if I walked on it, it would just get embedded into the bottom of my shoes, and I didn’t want that.
Now, granted, I didn’t stop to ponder the various possible solutions to this problem. And I readily acknowledge that there are a myriad of better choices I could have made. But I was more concerned with finishing up my shopping trip and getting my cranky 2-year-old home, so this is what I did. I lifted my foot and wiped the bottom of my shoe on the front of the cheese case, looked to see if the cheese was gone, wiped it again, was satisfied that most of it was off, and began to go along my merry way. It was then that I looked up to see about six other people in the aisle with me.
Immediately I realized that I just wiped cheese sludge from the bottom of my shoe on the front of the refrigerated grocery case. What am I, a child? Who DOES that sort of thing? Honestly I don’t know WHAT ails my head sometimes.
Quickly, I scanned the faces of the other shoppers to see if anyone had seen me. Sort of like when I was in grade school and I would pick my nose and then quickly look around the classroom in hopes that no one else had noticed. Or am I the only one who’s done that?
Any-Who. As I scanned the faces of my fellow shoppers, I noticed a familiar face a few yards away. It was another mom from my daughter’s school who I don’t know; I just recognized her. Greaaaaaaaaat. It was one of those moments when I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
As we approached one another, I made eye contact and smiled casually, hoping she hadn’t seen the cheese sludge incident. But she just looked back at me and kept walking. No smile. No acknowledgment. Nothing.
Well, maybe she didn’t see what I did. And maybe she doesn’t recognize me from school, so she didn’t know why I was trying to be friendly, I tried to console myself. Although when I pass a complete stranger in the grocery aisle, if she looks at me and smiles, I generally smile back. Don’t you?
Later that afternoon, I saw her picking up her daughter at school. Again, I made eye contact and smiled politely, but I got nuttin’. I was convinced she was remembering the cheese wiping incident.
Well, would you know, EVERY time I see this woman at school now, she just looks at me. She never smiles, but she obviously sees me. I see her talking and laughing with other moms, so I know she’s not antisocial. I’m really beginning to develop a complex.
I think she saw me wiping the cheese off my shoe onto the grocery case and thinks I’m a complete miscreant. Maybe I should consider moving to another school district. I can’t live with the shame much longer.