Many years ago we were camping up in Michigan in our tent camper. Our kids were little at the time. The campsites were pretty close together. The site next to us had their fire pit directly across from where Jim and I slept. We had turned in early, while they were sitting around a campfire. I let out a big, honking snore. Not just a snore, but an all-out tent sides sucking in, hold everything down or it will fly away, SNORT, SNORT, SNORT, kind of snore. It must have scared the bejesus out of our fellow campers because I heard the woman ask her husband in a small voice, "WHAT was THAT?"
"Oh, that's just the people next door!"
At that point I yelled out, "Jim! Wake up! You're SNORING!" (Quick thinking on my part, don't you think?)
When my daughter, Jessica, was little, I used to make her stuffed animals come to life by moving their arms, head, and sometimes legs, all the while talking in a funny voice. I particularly liked talking like Elmo. As Jess grew older, the playing with the stuffed animals stopped, but I never dropped the Elmo voice. Even through high school, I would kid around with her and talk in an Elmo voice. Jessica graduated high school and moved on to college. But I didn't grow older. Nope. One day I called her dorm room, and thinking it was Jess that answered the phone, I did my best Elmo imitation and asked, "Is Jessica there?"
I heard the young woman let out a sigh, and say, "Jessica, it's your MOM!" Then she put the phone down. How she knew it was me, I'll never know because I NEVER did my Elmo imitation outside of the house!
I fell down on the job (literally!) and hurt my knee and had to have an MRI to see what kind of damage was done and what surgery was necessary. I was on crutches and had my knee wrapped up in an ace bandage with those metal clips to hold it together. I was under the impression AND people had told me that no metal was allowed when having an MRI done. I entered the room, and of course there had to be a young, good looking technician working the machine. He instructed me to remove the ace bandage and to slip on a robe. I could keep on my underclothes. I was worried about my underwire bra and thought I should mention it for fear that my boobs would be suddenly magnetically drawn to the top of the machine and I would literally be hanging by my boobs.
With that in mind, I timidly said to this young stud muffin, "Um, I am wearing an underwire bra."
His reply? "I am so happy for you. Now get up on the table, please."
Did I want to die of embarrassment? You betcha!
Anything you'd like to share with us? I'm all ears!
(Click here to read Part One of Embarrassing Moments)
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