Because Sometimes You Get Pantsed
Alright, I know I said for my next post I’d write about when people get weird with babies and toddlers. Well, I guess children in general. But I have to share this with all of you first. Especially for all you mamas out there who just KNOW that eventually, at some point, you’ll be embarrassing your kids one day; even if you don’t mean to. And judging by today’s events, I know I’m well on my way there. Because this JUST happened.
So we’ve been having some plumbing issues at our house. It’s an old house. Built in 1938, so it’s to be expected. Anyway, I had a plumber come out this morning (which will actually be yesterday morning by the time I post this). Regardless of timing; here is what went down. I had just given my toddler a piece of peanut butter bread, which she was happily eating, until she got momentarily distracted by something & set it on the table. And our dog, Nate (named after my husband’s best friend), chose that moment to gobble it up. Well. As you can imagine she was less than pleased. She’s trying to smack his butt. I’m trying to step in between them, all the while shouting “Emily, don’t hit!” and “Nate! You eat DOG food, not hers!” And then there was a knock at the door. And for some reason, I momentarily panicked as my brain replayed what I had just yelled out, and I wondered if the plumber thought “Nate” was one of my kids that I had just shouted at to eat dog food.
So yeah, I panicked and that is my only excuse for whipping the door open and bellowing “ELLO GOVNAH!” (Picture me trying to pull off a really bad English accent, and for some reason lowering my voice to sound like a man). Eek. He looked… terrified. The poor man. So I welcomed him in. And as I’m explaining what’s going on with our plumbing, my toddler walks up to me and gently tugs on my shorts asking for “dew-dewies” (how she says blueberries). And I glanced down and said “One sec, Mama’s talking” and kept explaining the issue. Well, like toddlers do, she kept tugging and asking, tugging and asking. “Mama, I want dew-dewies!” [Tug tug tug.] “Mommy I waaaaant dew-dewies!” [Tug tug tug] Until finally I felt this super hard yank. And really? I should have seen it coming. Because of course it’s the day I had worn my stretchy shorts that don’t tie, and they just have an elastic band. Very comfortable, not very practical with an impatient toddler.
So there I stood. A gentle breeze whistling through my legs where my shorts once were. Sadly, they were now sagging halfway down my butt in a weird and horribly awkward gangster-showing-off-his-boxers type of way. The plumber looked absolutely mortified and suddenly was super busy on his phone, as I tried to yank my shorts up with one hand, while balancing my baby on my hip with the other hand. And I could have let things lie. And I should have. But I didn’t. Because apparently I just can’t help myself. So instead I blurted out “You should see what she does when she wants a full meal!” Cue awkward forced laughter from me; and to complete this entire awful event, add to your mental picture: me clicking my teeth like I was trying to prompt a horse to start walking, and throwing him the double gun hand gesture.
Yeah… Because, you know; I’m cool like that? I like to make an already horribly awkward situation even more awkward, apparently. Thankfully he also had kids, so we both kinda laughed it off. And I wish I could say it stopped there. I really do. I wish I could say that the rest of the morning had gone smoothly. Except that when he was about to leave, I had just set my son in his bouncer and was picking discarded blueberries off the table, listening to him explain what he fixed and what he’d bill us for. And I distractedly reached for what I thought was a smushed blueberry (toddlers and their food, psh!) and instead picked up a very large, very hairy black spider. And for those who know me personally, you know how I am with spiders. To say that I have arachnophobia is putting it mildly. I was once super late to a class in college because there was a spider hanging in the middle of my door jam, and I was so terrified that it was going to drop on my head the moment I walked underneath it, I had to wait for my roommate to come home and get it for me. So…yeah, back to me holding a gigantic hairy spider.
Good bye any last shreds of charm and dignity. Hello total hysteria over a small insect the size of a half dollar. There was lots of shrieking and jumping and arm waving over my head. And I’m pretty sure just a steady stream of “Is it on me?! We need bleach!! Get if OFF me!!! Or hot acid! Where’d it GO?!” We finally found it on the edge on my couch, and he calmly walked over and scooped it up with a magazine and let it outside. Meanwhile I was STANDING on my coffee table and had both kids safely on the couch. So… Needless to say, by how embarrassing the entire morning was, when I was replaying everything that happened, all I could think about was “Oh my poor kids; I’m totally going to embarrass the heck out of them one day.” And ya know what? I don’t mind that at all. If anything, it’s a rite of passage. I feel like that’s part of a mom’s job, to at some point embarrass the heck out of your kids. Anyway. Hope all of your mornings are less embarrassing than mine was. And happy Wednesday.