Was My Face Red!

Amanda at Shamelessly Sassy is hosting an Embarrass Yourself contest.  Since I embarrass myself on a daily basis my problem was not finding something to write about but narrowing down the options.  With Mr. Dingo vacationing in meetings in Miami I called Mom for suggestions.  She took to the task a little too enthusiastically.

Mom:  What about the time you fell off the stage in front of your entire high school?
Me:  Oh, that’s a good one!  I’ll write about –
Mom:  How about the time you almost drowned at the Sunday School picnic!
Me:  Mom!  That’s not funny, I almost died!
Mom:  It’s funny in hindsight, dear.
Me:  Um, not really.
Mom:  Oh! Remember when you wiped out on your rollerblades in front of the –
Me:  Mom! I told you to never mention that again.  You’re not being very helpful.  This is Embarrass Yourself for $100, not Embarrass Yourself So That You Can Never Go Out In Public Again.

We ended the conversation shortly thereafter with my realization that I am more accident prone than I cared to acknowledged.  I am a magnet for embarrassing spills (both liquid and gravitational) and while I am the only person I know whose yoga has not made them lithe and limber, I have the unenviable ability to insert my foot into my mouth with regularity.  I finally decided which embarrassing moment to post to Amanda’s web site.  You should take a look at some of the other entries.  Hilarious!  You can even post your own.  The contest ends today.  Here’s my entry:

Dingo Girl and I had just moved into a 5th floor walk-up and my legs hadn’t adjusted to the compulsory workout.  Around mid-afternoon on the second day we were there Dingo Girl needed to go for a walk.  I decided to multi-task and take down empty boxes and a bag of trash.  It was awkward getting down the stairs with the boxes under one arm and the trash bag in the other with Dingo Girl’s leash in my teeth.  We got to the street and had to go just around the corner to get rid of my garbage.  People waved and smiled as we walked by.  I figured we probably made an amusing convoy and was happy to see that people in my new neighborhood were friendly and had a sense of humor.  Dingo Girl, for once, did not try to dart ahead.  I could hear the click-clack of her nails on the sidewalk and it sounded as if she was happily prancing behind me.  I was so proud of my girl.  We’d been working on “heel” but Dingo Girl was more like, “hell no,” so this obedient stroll down the sidewalk was a major improvement. 

We made it to the trash bin which was on a busy side street and I dumped my things on top of the heap.  Taking the leash out of my mouth, I turned around to praise Dingo Girl profusely for her good behavior.  I just about died.  Apparently, Dingo Girl decided to “help” me take things downstairs and grabbed something from the dirty clothes pile on the way out.  My bright turquoise blue thong underwear.  No wonder people were smiling and waving — oh no!  They weren’t waving!  They had been pointing!  I made a hasty grab for my unmentionables which instantly turned into her favorite games: keep away and tug of war.  We continued to make a spectacle on the street with me trying to be as discreet as possible…”drop it, drop it”…yes, one more command we needed to work on.  I managed to get my hands on the delicate fabric but as soon as I had a firm grip on it the waistband broke knocking me a bit off balance which made me drop the leash.  This was Dingo Girl’s cue for mayhem.  She never moved more than four feet from me but she darted about like a hummingbird on crack waving her trophy.  It was at this time that a police officer who was walking to his patrol car parked near the trash bins walked up behind me and laughingly asked if I needed help.  Before I could say no and that I had it all under control (wasn’t it obvious?), Dingo Girl walked up to the police officer and promptly dropped the shredded thong at his feet.

I wondered if it was too late to break the lease and move somewhere far, far away.