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Let my humiliation amuse you. My year end gift to you.

Well, look at that, loveys!  2012 winding to an end!  I am constantly amazed that I make it through from day to day as a semi normal person, because to be honest, I attract the weird, wacky and strange.  My life is generally a comedy of errors, with those errors happening on my own behalf.  I the spirit of disclosure, I will share a few of these, if only to garner a little smile.  Some you may have heard from twitter, but I will give you more details on how much of an ass I make of myself.

I should preface this by saying that I consider myself to be a relatively intelligent human being.  I am no Stephen Hawking, but I manage to get by.  My son agrees with this theory, so much so that he announced in a crowded Target store the other week “You know, Mommy…..people would be very surprised if the really knew you.  You may not look very smart, but you really are!”  The choking laughter of my husband in the next aisle made that mother-son bonding moment extra special.   My son thinks I am smart, because frankly, I’ve taught him some pretty big concepts.  Shoe tying, potty training, reading….I am the go to gal.  However I am now in the precarious position of having a 6 year old who is starting to recognize there are areas in which his dear, sweet, amazing, fabulous in ever way mother (too much?) miiiiiggghhhtttt be lacking just a smidgen.   Areas such as math.  I USED to be good in math.  I’m not sure what happened.  My mathematical skills are lacking these days, I freely admit.  I learned this on Saturday when we went to the vets with the dog.  My son asked me a mathematical question that left me….perplexed.  I looked at the vet.  She looked at me.  I said “you went to school longer than I did…do you know?”  My son said the answer and we both said “yes, that sounds about right”.  So the answer to “are you smarter than a first grader?” would likely be “I’m not so sure about that.”

Before Christmas, I decided to explain to said first grader the importance of watering our tree.  I climbed underneath the tree, gimpy spine crackling and popping like cereal, and watered our tree.   My problem occurred when I realized the tree had somehow gotten sap all over my hand.  So I did what any smart thinking person would do in that situation….I panicked and did what I often do when nervous, I rubbed my face.  I then had a slight dilemma.  My cheek was stuck to my nose. My eye was gummed open.  Only one eye blinked. I looked, quite honestly, like an asshole.  The gravity of my assholishness became apparent when the 6 year old and his 2 year old looked at me in abject horror and pity.  “Mommy, what you do to yer FACE?” yelled my daughter.  Sigh.  As I tried to unstick my face from my face, I became more sticky, and more prone to looking like Sloth from the Goonies.  My children looked at each other sadly.  Their mommy…fails.

One of my favorite Idiot Girl moments, didn’t TECHNICALLY involve me being an idiot.  Yet it still warrants attention because even when I am not pulling idiot moments, I gather others around me who will.   Many moons ago, before I met Mr Messy, I went out on a dinner date with a young gentleman.  The plan was to go for dinner, and then go in Georgetown, DC for the evening.  After nom nom’s at a local pub, we got on the highway.  We got maybe a 3rd of the way to Georgetown when he announced he needed to go home….he wasn’t feeling well.  I was driving, and disappointed, but complied.  As I got back on the highway to head home, the young man farted.  In my car.  On a date.  Hmph.  I tried to look on the bright side, figuring I had now earned the right to return the favor without embarrassment someday.  heh.  But then I heard a noise that I can only describe as someone farting in a bowl of pudding.  It was deep, it was dark, and friends…it was wet.  I knew.  I knew that bastard had just sharted in my car.  I wanted to cry.  He looked at me, and I looked at him.  I swung off the highway and pulled into a gas station.  “OUT.  Go fix that” was all I could choke out.  He came out a few minutes later and looked surprised I was still sitting there.  I was surprised too, but mostly, I was in shock and paralyzed by the smell that had taken over my car.  I heard a kathump, I didn’t know what it was.  He got back in.  I suddenly realized he had put something in the trunk of my car.  DID HE JUST PUT SHITTY DRAWERS IN MY TRUNK? Oh hell no.  We began to argue.  Finally, I just peeled out of the parking lot and took off to head home…I mean really…I wasn’t gonna go digging those nasty undies out of my car, now was I?

So there I was.  On a date, with captain crapper at my side, zipping down the toll road, when I heard another pudding fart.  It took everything I had not to punch him in the neck and kick him out of the car.  I thought about it.  I won’t lie.  I thought about it right up until I saw red white and blue in my rear view mirror.   You know the old Burt Reynolds Smokey and The Bandit movies?  Yeeeah.  You remember the cop?  Yeeeaaah.  that’s pretty much who pulled me over.  Mirrored Raybans, southern drawl, and puffed out chest.  He asked me why I was speeding.  I responded that my date had “defecated in my vehicle”.  That made his lip twitch.  He asked if I had been drinking.   I told him no.  He didn’t believe me….that is, until he leaned down and took a HUGE whiff in the car to check for alcohol.  Oh dear, now imagine his surprise.  “son, did you defecate in the lady’s car?” he boomed.  “yes, yes sir”.  “Now why on God’s green earth would you do something like that?”  “officer, not only that, but he put his drawers with that depravity in my trunk!”

I got off the ticket.

I’ll try to summon up some more humiliation for later.

Stay safe this New Years.  No matter who you spend it with, or what you do…you are loved.  Remember that.

Messy XX

 

 

 

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