Embarrassing moments … I have had my share in life. They can bring out that hot-faced feeling that makes you want to crawl under a rock and die.
But in time, they usually end up to be great stories to remember.
I think it is important to help teach kids not to take themselves too seriously and prepare to be ready for these moments. I think being able to laugh at yourself is a great asset.
My daughter Allison, 10, recently got a great moment to laugh at herself. My oldest daughter, Paige, 15, Allison and I were shopping at the store Express in the mall.
For those of you not familiar with that store, it is brightly lit and the front is all glass. Paige and I walked out first and behind us I heard this loud thud.
You know how little birds sometimes fly hard smack into glass? Allison had run like a little bird straight into the glass at Express. (Kudos to the window washing people there. She really didn’t see it and thought she was walking through the door.)
Allison was left with a red mark and the thud noise caught the attention of several shoppers. She was a little disoriented for awhile, but quickly was laughing too.
This brought up an interesting conversation of what our most embarrassing event of life was. I had so many, it was hard to choose.
I have had zippers undone, toilet paper on my shoe and even took my trash out and yelled “Hi” to my neighbors while 9 months pregnant and wearing a cute two-piece shirt and pencil skirt. After they looked at me like I was crazy, I got in my car and looked down, then realized I had forgot to put on the skirt.
So what was my most embarrassing moment ever? The year was 1985 and I was a freshman in college.
I thought I was pretty cool back then and had joined the sisterhood of Sigma Kappa sorority at CMSU. We had chosen a senior citizen cause as our philanthropy and came up with an opportunity to raise money for it — we heard about working at a concession stand at a Kansas City Royals game.
It sounded like a ton of fun to me, hanging out with my friends and running a concession stand and doing some good for others. We all carpooled up together and checked in to work.
Here is where things went south: They split up the dozen of us who had gone up to work together. I remember the only friend I was left with was Suzi Brown, and they sent us up to a work station with about 10 other ladies.
These women were not sorority girls. They had come in on a bus from the inner city and they were hard-core. They weren’t happy or perky to be working with us and, I think it would be safe to say, they were not fans of college sorority girls.
Suzi and I were given ugly shirts and jobs to do. My job was titled by the big, rude woman who gave it to me as “the Kraut girl.” She would throw the hot dogs at me and yell, “Put some kraut on the dog.”
I truly tried to make conversation with her and a few of her friends. I did learn one was recently paroled, but chit chat with Suzi and I was the last thing they wanted.
I remember how hot it was in there, the lines of people, and how demanding and rude the customers were and how I smelled like sweat and sauerkraut, looking at Suzi and thinking we both should just make a run for it and cut out on the cause.
I remember thinking my grandma was a senior citizen and she would probably rather donate the $25 I was going to make for the cause to them rather than have me risk my life and dignity. But as that thought went through my mind, it happened. The most embarrassing thing in my life.
I looked up, and like a bad dream, I saw seven boys that had gone to my high school, all about four years older than me, and all had been super cool. I tried to look away but it was too late.
One locked eyes with me and had a look of curiosity on his face as he yelled, “Hey guys, isn’t that Janie Marquardt?” They all looked at me, covered in sweat and kraut and in the middle of what looked like a work release program.
They all stared and nodded, so I quickly tried to nod and explain, “Yes, yes it is me, but I am here with MY SORORITY, and we are ...” I was cut off and the mean bossy lady was in my face and screamed, “Shut up and put some kraut on the dog!”
I tried to explain again, and was cut off again and they left, probably debating on taking up a collection for me. I was scared for years that half of Nevada would think I flunked out of college and had become a professional sauerkraut girl.
A few years later I did run into a few of those guys at a party, and we all had a good laugh over the story. But to this day I can not, and will not, ever again eat sauerkraut on my hot dog. Ever.
Jane Drummond is a parent educator for the Carthage School District. Contact her at janedrummond@mchsi.com.
