My very last post was about how my children embarrass me. I bring this up only to prove my point. Which is, my children (one in particular) embarrass me. Over and over again.
Going into motherhood, I seriously had NO IDEA how often THEY would embarrass me.
You’d think I’d be immune by now, but the reality is, I’m not. Every single time they embarrass me, I wonder:
- How in the world it’s possible to feel so awkward as a result of something my child has said or done.
- What were they thinking?
- Why? Why me?
Just yesterday Jeff and I were at my in-laws house and John was playing in this grassy field that is right outside of their house. He saw a neighbor and engaged him conversation from across the street. Since the conversation took place from across the street, and he had to yell, I could hear every word. John basically grilled him.
- “What’s your name?”,
- “Is that your wife?”,
- “Do you have any kids?”,
- “Is your baby in the car?”,
- “What are you doing?”
The man didn’t seem to mind and kept answering his questions so I stayed out of it.
Then, the neighbor went into his garage, took of his shirt so that he could wash his car (it was really nice and sunny out) and I heard John yell:
“Hey! Could you put your shirt back on?”
The neighbor did. He put his shirt back on, and I wanted to die.
I had to intervene at that point and apologize. I hate having to do that.
All I could think was, “and those words came out of the mouth of he who takes his shirt off any chance he can get”.