Abject Humiliation

I will now strip myself of all dignity and pride. My life has been a long series of humbling events. Try as I might to appear poised and confident, intelligent and capable, to look like someone people can take seriously, inevitably the truth comes out in the most humiliating ways. The truth is I’m clumsy, awkward and weird. Every time I take a misstep, someone is there to witness it.

Case in point: Last weekend I was helping my aunt by watching some of my younger cousins while she was out of town for a few days. Saturday morning I took the youngest to his primary program practice (an alliteration for your reading pleasure).

Before I go any further I need to discuss my relationship with weekend mornings. We’re not friends. If I’m up before 9:00am there’s something seriously wrong with the world. Before 8:00am- forget about it. I might as well be dead. I’ll be tired and grumpy for days because I didn’t get to catch up on my beauty sleep. I just know any mothers reading this right now are either a) pointing and laughing hysterically at me or b) rolling your eyes and saying swear words in your heads at me. I can’t help it. I’m a chronic sleepy head.

So these kids were up bright and early, bless their hearts, and I dragged myself out of bed to take my cousin to his practice. When I got back to the house I felt too lethargic to do anything with myself. I didn’t even eat breakfast. I was THAT tired. Before I knew what had happened, the time had come for me to go pick him up. I was still in my pajamas. Not a cute little sweat suit or fun scrubs or anything acceptable like that. Oh no. I’m talking about my men’s extra large sweats and a shapeless 500 year-old t-shirt. I basically looked like a blob. The only shoes I had were little black ballet flats. But it didn’t matter. I would just drive up to the door, he’d jump in the car, no one would have to be exposed to my grossness, and we’d be no worse for the wear. Well, I drove up to that door, and he didn’t come out. Waves of children were running out, but not him. By this time it was pouring rain, the dark clouds a perfect similitude of the fogginess in my brain. I thought, “He’s such a timid little guy, maybe he’s thrown off by the fact that his mom’s not here and he’s too nervous to come out.” I’d have to go in for him. The horror! “Get a grip!” I thought. “I’m never going to see any of these people again. They don’t know me. They’ll just notice the gross girl with stringy hair and puffy eyes, then forget me completely.” So, I did what anyone would do. I tucked the baggy bottoms of my sweats into my little black shoes so as not to get them wet. I was, after all, planning on wearing them for a few more hours at least. They turned from just being humungous sweats to being humungous Aladdin/MC Hammer sweats. I ran through the rain and up the church steps towards the glass doors. I raised my eyes, and to my horror stood one of my bosses from work! He looked up just in time to lock eyes with me! If I could have, I would have turned on a dime and run away, but it was too late. He’d spotted me. I don’t really remember what happened next. I think I said something stupid about not looking very professional, which is ridiculous. You don’t have to look professional on a Saturday morning, just not disgusting. Apparently he was in charge of the program. I ran up the hall and found my cousin eating a popsicle with his friends. I grabbed him and jetted out the door with a “See you on Monday!”

The most awkward thing of all: I’ve seen him every work day since the incident. I’ve spoken to him several times. But I haven’t addressed the encounter at all! I don’t know how to bring it up. There’s this weird tension between us. It’s the big pink “I saw you in your pajamas” elephant in the room. This is my plight. I accept your pity.