An Attempt at Humor

So I have decided to be more active on the blogging front. Well at least this blog. We'll see how it goes. Since I do write YA, and the teenage years are full of embarrassing moments, I thought I might share one that happened to me recently. Now this is small compared to some of my high school moments, and my freshmen year of college was quite embarrassing. However it does hearken back to my freshman year of college. That year I had four or five quite spectacular falls in front of boys. One involved the inability to get back up. I was in a dress, with slick shoes, and both the guy I was with and I were laughing so hard, but embarrassed at the same time that I couldn't get up. He was lifting me and everything! I was a nice petite 105 back then, so it wouldn't be the same thing if someone couldn't lift me up today.

Anyway my most recent and very embarrassing moment happened yesterday. I took my children to the swimming pool with a friend and her children. We are packing up getting ready to go when my darling two year old understanding that we are leaving took off towards the gate. My towel was wrapped around me, but as he picked up speed I started dropping the things that I was carrying. I left quite a trail behind me.

As I look, he has reached the road/parking lot. It's like a combination thing. I yell, "Stop Jacob." He giggles.

Then I trip over a step and scrape both of my knees, and my hands and stub my toe. My butt, which is now towelless is sticking straight up in the air. But since Jacob is in the road I scramble up and hobble towards him. "Stop Jacob" But really I'm thinking don't cry like an idiot, don't cry like an idiot.

Limping I chase him in circles until I grab him. Then I look down at my knee. The right one hurts, and it is dripping blood. I thought scraped knees were for children. (Unfortunately this is not the case for me--as this is the third time I've scraped my right knee something royal since I grew up).

My friend was in the shower room with her kids, and thus did not witness my derriere moment. I am too embarrassed to have her see the shame of my bloody knee. Blood is trickling down my leg at this point. I dash over wrap my towel around me again--which I now need to bleach--just in time. I gather my other two kids. And limp while trying not to look as though I'm not limping back to the car.

I see two more friends today, and they comment on my scraped up leg. I'm wearing capris, so the really bad part isn't showing. I try to laugh it off. But inside I'm writhing in agony. Does everyone need to know that I'm a complete klutz? Generally it happens in waves. For example during my freshman year I fell down (for no apparent reason, tripping was only involved once) five times in a three month period.

My most spetacular fall involved rolling twice down a steep ramp and everyone stopping and staring. My friends were so shocked they just stood there. Maybe they didn't want to admit to being with me. Some friends!

My most embarrassing was the aforementioned incident where I could not stand back up with said boy--who I was interested in at the time.

My most humiliating was the tripping incident which involved ripping a large hole in the knees of my new jeans (at a time when large holes were not okay fashion wise). I seriously considered going back home, but it was the first day of class, and I knew if I went home, I'd wouldn't go back to campus. I was late, because it hurt to walk, and there was lots of dripping blood. My professor was some honor code lackey and when I entered late--he spoke about the importance of being on time. When he walked by me, and noticed the holes in my pants--and if he even looked momentarily my bloody, bloody knee. He lectured the class about not coming to class with holes in your pants. Yeah--he made a great first impression.