Funny Faux Pas Follies #5 - And You Think You've Had a Bad Day!

Welcome to the finale of Funny Faux Pas Follies!

For four straight weeks now, you've been able to laugh with me—AND AT ME—over some of the royal blunders from my past.

Now here's one more chance for you to see what a real joker I can make of myself.

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The particular day I'm sharing with you started out like any other typical Sunday in our household.  The family was up early, eating breakfast and getting ready for church.  But as you mothers of young children can attest to, getting ready for anything, when you have young children, involves you getting them ready along with yourself.  And on this day, like every other prior to it, I was doing just that.

We were within minutes of walking out the door, and I was slipping into my skirt and top and putting on the final touches for myself, like perfume, jewelry, and a few spritzes of holding spray for my hair—a necessity back then, to maintain my early 90s hairstyle.  The holding spray was normally the next to last thing to go on, just before I got dressed.  And I usually did all that while everyone else was loading into the car.

On this special day, I got quite a surprise during my "finishing touches" routine.  Instead of the several quick spritzes holding my hair in place, they soaked it to the scalp and caused it to fall flat.  I stood there in shock for a few seconds, watching my hair fall limp all around me.  There was no time to redo my do, so all I could do was get dressed and head for the car.

You see, I was the director of children for the church we attended and had to be there before everyone else arrived, so there was no way I could even play hooky.

I somehow knew that the incident involved my sweet son, Joshua—about eight years old at the time.  So, en route to the church, I asked him if he had used the holding spray while he was getting ready that morning.  And as I had suspected, he had.  When I asked him if he had done anything to the spray or the bottle—other than just use it—he innocently answered, "Well, there was only a little left when I was done, Mom, so I put water in the bottle for you, to give you more."  I was speechless for the remainder of the ride.

We arrived at the church, everyone headed off to their designated places, and I quickly headed to the children's area to make sure that everything was in order.  I remembered I was scheduled to make a presentation in the sancturary that morning, but I had to find time to visit the ladies room first—to see if I could salvage my hair disaster.  I did the best I could to remedy that problem and then darted off to the sanctuary to make my presentation.

I made my way down the large center aisle of the sanctuary, walked up about eight steps onto the platform and made my presentation.  Thank goodness, that part went off without a hitch.  I then walked back down that center aisle and back to the children's area.

As soon as I walked in the first door—leading to one of the infant nursery rooms—one of the female attendants took me aside to tell me that my skirt was unzipped.  COMPLETELY!!!  So not only had I just walked past this large congregation with hair less than properly coiffed, but I had done so with my skirt unzipped from top to bottom!

Now there are a few things you need to understand to be able to put this all into perspective. This was a fairly large church of several thousand members, and because of my position on staff at the church, I could never just slip in and out unrecognized.

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And although not one other person mentioned the episode to me that day, I felt sure this nursery attendant was not the only one to have noticed.

Needless to say, I was more than a little ready to get home that day.  So as soon as possible after the service, I headed for the parking lot to wait for the rest of the family.  But when I got to the van, I got yet another surprise.  I couldn't get the key to work in the lock.  I tried one door and then another—but without success.  After the frustation began to subside, I realized it wasn't even my van.  It was merely a van that looked like mine!

I located our vehicle about the time the rest of the family arrived.  By now, I was REALLY ready to get home.  On the way back, I began contemplating the events of the day, and remembering the holding spray episode, decided to probe Joshua a bit more.  Happy April !st!

My son had always been a very honest person, so I knew he was not trying to deceive me, but I couldn't for the sake of me understand why he would have added water to the bottle.  When I asked him why he had done so, he matter of factly replied, "Because, that's what you always do, Mom.  When the ketchup or the salad dressing, or stuff like that starts running out, YOU add water."

Hearing that sweet, innocent explanation instantly made all the blunders of my day fade away.  And I was reminded that life is too short to sweat the small stuff.  AND BELIEVE ME, ITS ALL SMALL STUFF—in the true scheme of things!  ; )

Every day is a gift.  That's why they call it the present.—Unknown

Happy April 1st!

Funny Faux Pas Follies #4 - Paying it Back!

Welcome to week four of Funny Faux Pas Follies!

Are you ready to have some fun and enjoy a bit of light-hearted humor?

Great; then let's party!

Okay.  For three straight weeks, I've let you see my blundering side. 

But I thought I would take a different turn, for this party, and show you a side of

myself that doesn't surface very often—

the prankster.   ; )

And once again, this humorous little tale involves my

darling daughter, Asheley.

If you remember from last week, Asheley was a child who was in constant motion.

She really seemed to have only two speeds—high and off.

So traveling in a vehicle with Ashe, when she was young, was quite a challenge at times.

The old familiar, "are we there yet" began forming on her lips, almost

as soon as her seat belt clicked in—and often continued, until we arrived at our destination.

It actually got so bad on one long trip, I silently prayed, "Lord, would it be a sin if I

muzzled my child?" 

Just kidding—sort of!   ; )

Thankfully, it was just a phase, and, happily, one that she outgrew.

JAKE & ASHE THE DAY ASHE GOT HER CAR

Now, fast forward to Ashe's senior year in high school.

She had been invited to spend spring break with the family of one

of her very best friends—Jake.

Jake and Ashe had been friends for a long time, and we had seen so much of him over

the years of their friendship, he was like a member of our family.

  As a matter of fact, he even tagged along with us, when it was time

to purchase a car for Asheley. 

And they even went to each other's separate school dances—as a couple.

Because we knew Jake so well, and were assured that his parents would uphold good

Christian values, we felt peace about sanctioning

this trip to the beach.

On the morning of Asheley's departure, her dad kissed her goodbye

and left for work.  I helped her finish packing and then prepared to take

her to Jake's family's home.

Shortly after arriving there, and after a few minutes of conversation with his parents,

I kissed Ashe, said goodbye, and told her to

call me as soon as she got to the beach cottage.

When I returned home, I was pleasantly surprised to find that hubby

had decided to take the day off, and had come back home,

so he and I could spend time together.

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I feel it necessary to preface the rest of the story with a disclaimer...

I'm not the prank-playing type. 

I'm actually considered to be the serious one of the bunch—

by my family members.

But this 4 1/2 hour trip of Asheley's was just too tempting to pass up.  So I enlisted

hubby's help for a bit of payback.

It had been about twenty minutes since I had left Ashe off, but it had been hours

 since she had seen her dad.  To make her believe that he was still at work,

I had him use his cell phone to call to ask her if she was there yet—of course,

knowing full well, she was not.

Then about thirty minutes later, I called from home and asked her if she was there yet. 

Thirty minutes after that, hubby called from his cell again, to ask her if she was

there yet.

And so it went, for the entirety of Asheley's trip to the beach.

Well, except for the last 45 minutes or so—when mysteriously, Ashe couldn't be reached

on her cell phone.  lol

But we just patiently waited, until we knew that they had had plenty of time to

arrive at the beach cottage, and we called again.  This time Asheley answered.  Before I

could say a word, she said, "Yes, Mom!  I'm there!!!"

Hearing the intensity of the frustration in her voice, I decided to fill her in on the prank.

It took Ashe and Jake quite awhile before they could see the humor in my

"paying it back," for all those years of, "Are we there yet?"

But Jake's parents thought it was a hoot. 

Imagine that!   ; )

Funny Faux Pas Follies #3 - A Nice Trip

Welcome to week three of Funny Faux Pas Follies!

Let's have a little fun together.  Shall we?

In every family, there seems to be at least one person who keeps everyone else on their toes.

In our family, it was always my darling daughter, Asheley.

I suspected from the start—even while she was still in the womb—that I was going to have my hands full with that child.

From very early on in my pregnancy, she seemed to be in constant motion. 

And it didn't stop, once she was born.

As a matter of fact, the older she got, the more active she became.

I think Cyndi Lauper wrote Girls Just Wanna Have Fun specifically for Ashe.

When the time came to plan for her 18th birthday, we asked her what she would like to do to celebrate.

After all, "18" is one of those major milestone years.

Ashe knew that I had a business trip that was scheduled a few weeks after her birthday and asked if she could tag along, as her present.

I know what you're thinking, "Awww!  How sweet!  She just wanted to celebrate her birthday by being with Mom."

And while we are extremely close, and we've always loved spending time together, the venue of my business meeting was what she was really after.

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Nope, that's not Paris; it's Las Vegas, Nevada!

To make this occasion even more memorable, I even let her choose the hotel we would stay in. 

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After spending countless hours on the computer, pouring over numerous hotels, she decided The Aladdin Resort would be the "perfect place" to celebrate her birthday.

"See, Mom.  This would be the perfect place.  I could stay by the pool while you're in meetings," she reasoned.

Yeah, right!  Like I would let my gorgeous 18-yr-old daughter be anywhere in Las Vegas all by herself!!!

The condition for her tagging along for her birthday was that she would have to be in the company of some of the other adult ladies from my group, when I was in meetings.

  

From the moment the plane arrived in Vegas, Asheley was determined to "see the sights."

Remember the introduction to this post—the child who was never still?

A place that "never sleeps" is the perfect environment for someone like Asheley!

So, needless to say, when I wasn't in business meetings, I was walking the Vegas strip with my daughter.

On one such day—as we were touring the strip—we noticed a decent-sized crowd gathered in a grassy area near the sidewalk.

Of course, Ashe had to find out what the buzz was all about, so we began making our way to the crowd.

Still dressed in business attire, from my morning meeting—including high heels—made traversing the sidewalk full of people rather tricky.

Just as I started stepping off the sidewalk into the grass, my heel got wedged in a crack and threw me forward into the crowd.

Thank goodness, there was a kind man standing right there to break my fall.  Of course, he didn't know he would be breaking my fall—unfortunately, with his back.

The whole crowd turned to see what the new commotion was all about—including the entertainer, who was the reason for the crowd.

As soon as I could compose myself, and, as graciously as possible, apologize for "dropping in" unexpectedly on this nice man, I was out of there!!!

Of course, once Asheley knew that I hadn't hurt anything—other than my pride—she was in hysterics.

In the midst of her hearty chortle, she jokingly asked, "Mom, did you have a nice trip?"

Which caused us both to break into hysterical laughter.

That night, there was entertainment provided at a function hosted by my company, and Ashe was invited to attend.

Any guess as to who the entertainer might have been?

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It was none other than the very same Elvis impersonator whose impromptu sidewalk show, I had crashed!

Like being humiliated in front of this guy once wasn't enough!!!

And since that day, every time someone asks whether I've "had a nice trip,"  I think back to Vegas and Elvis...

and especially to my darling daughter—who made it a very nice trip—

and I smile!  ; )

Funny Faux Pas Follies #2 - Boy do I Have a "Tail" to Tell!

Welcome to week two of Funny Faux Pas Follies!

Are you ready to have a good time?

Do you need a laugh or two?

Then let's get this party started, and we'll see what we can do!  ; )

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There are many joys and blessings one receives in raising and training children.

But I would have to exclude potty training from that proclamation—especially, after the trials of training my daughter, Asheley.

So as not to scare those of you who, as of yet, have not experienced this peril of parenting, I will add a little caveat:  each child is different, therefore the experiences one encounters will be unique to each child.

The particular adventure I'm about to share involves Asheley at age two.

Where my son, Joshua, virtually potty trained himself—as a fourteen-month-old—a greater degree of effort, patience, and time was needed for Asheley.

It seemed we would either spend inordinate amounts of time in the bathroom—to no avail—or there would be no time to spare between the words, "Go potty, Mommy" and the actual event.

Needless to say, during those many long and arduous months of training, "going potty" was the absolute last act to be performed, before stepping one foot out the door to go anywhere with Ashe.

And while shopping was still to be done during those months, it was done with a certain amount of trepidation.

On this particular day, I had dropped Joshua off at school and decided I would run a few errands before picking him back up, at midday.

Though I had just taken Asheley to the potty prior to leaving home—a mere fifteen minutes before—I took her inside the school for yet another attempt.

Plenty of time was allotted for the task each time but produced zero results either time.

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I left the school and drove just ten minutes away to do my shopping. 

As I got out of the car, I once again asked Asheley if she needed to "go potty," and she once more insisted she did not.

I hurried into the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and began to quickly do my shopping—knowing that my time was very limited.

No more than five minutes passed, when a precious pixie voice blurted out, in utter desperation, "Potty, Mommy!"

I knew from experience, I could not take the chance that this was another false alarm, so I instantly began searching for the restroom.

I must have looked like a crazed woman, as I frantically pushed the cart around the perimeter of the store in search of a bathroom.

Seeing my panicked state, a young salesclerk asked if she could assist me.

"Yes, please!"  I wailed.  "Where is the restroom?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ma'am.  We don't have a public restroom," she stated as a matter of fact.

"But you do have one, correct?"  I asked.  "You see, my little one is potty training, and she has to go...RIGHT NOW!"

"I'm afraid the restroom is for employees only, Ma'am.  But the store five doors down will let you use theirs," she offered apologetically.

By this point, Asheley was beginning to squirm and crying more emphatically, "Potty, Mommy, potty!"

So, I grabbed her out of the cart—leaving it in the middle of the floor—and ran out of the store and five doors down.

Thankfully, there was a clerk by the entrance of this store, so I quickly inquired, "Bathroom?"—offering no further explanation.

She pointed to the back corner of the store.

(WHY MUST RESTROOMS ALWAYS BE IN THE BACK OF THE STORE?!)

I raced to the back, all the while trying to convince Asheley that she could "hold it."

I finally reached my destination but was totally unprepared for what I found.

Not only was this bathroom incredibly small, but it was being used for storage, as well, so there was barely even room to get to the toilet—let alone use it!

And the worse part of it was...

 this place looked as though it had never ever been cleaned—NEVER...EVER!!!

And because of the way boxes were stacked all around the toilet, there was no way for me to safely hold Asheley over it.

So are you getting the picture here:  desperate two-year-old, frantic mom, grotesquely filthy toilet!!!

The only clean thing I could spy in the entire room was a freshly placed roll of toilet tissue.

I stood Asheley on the floor and told her to hold on to my legs and not to touch anything—while I prepared the toilet seat.

All the while, her pleading cries of "Potty, Mommy, potty!!!" were becoming more distraught.

And what was I doing?

I was creating a slipcover out of toilet paper!

I kid you not; this restroom—and specifically the toilet—was so disgusting, I could not bear the thought of my child sitting on the seat, until I was convinced that I had created a sufficient germ barrier.

To this day, I do not know how she managed to "hold it" for so long, but she did—thank goodness.

And with all the running and the panicking and the stress, I then found I needed to "go," as well.

So just picture me trying to keep my two-year-old safely occupied in this seriously cramped and disgustingly dirty place, while attempting to "go potty" myself.

Under normal circumstances, I would have politely removed the mound of tissue from the toilet seat, but in this instance, I intended to leave a poignant message instead.

With our business taken care of, I hurried back to the original store and resumed my shopping—realizing my time to do so had now been greatly reduced.

As I entered the store, I was greeted by, what appeared to be, an unusually large smile from the young salesclerk.

And as I briskly walked down the first aisle—playing "beat the clock," knowing I would soon have to leave to pick Joshua up—I noticed some rather odd glances coming from others I encountered along the way.

After about ten minutes of shopping, a sweet, petite, gray-haired lady approached me, and in a near whisper asked, "Honey, when is the last time you looked in the mirror?"

Honestly, the first thought that crossed my mind—after what I had just gone through—was something along the lines of, "You've got to be kidding!  I'm potty training a two-year-old.  I don't have time to look in a mirror!"

But realizing that that response would have been totally inappropriate, I just smiled and replied softly, "Not since this morning."

Being ever so polite, and choosing her words thoughtfully, she gently suggested, "Perhaps it's time to look again."

Then with a wink, she turned and walked away.

I apprehensively approached one of the mirrors near the dressing room, and this is what I discovered.

Amid all the chaos—in that despicable bathroom—not only had I created a slipcover for the toilet, but I had somehow managed to leave that tiny space with a portion of the "slipcover" stuck in the top of my jeans.

As I stood there, staring, in disbelief, at the tail of white tissue trailing from my pants, I noticed a small group gathering around the area where I was standing.

The folks who, for whatever reasons, had failed to point out my faux pas, had come to see how I was handling my discovery.

I'm sure they wondered if I would just tuck tail and run!

But as I began pulling the long tissue tail out of my clothing, the thought flashed into my mind of me parading past shoppers in two stores and past the windows and doors of four other stores—in addition to all the people in the parking lot—with my tissue tail swaying in the breeze.

With that graphic image dancing around in my head, I began to laugh uncontrollably.

Then—as though relieved—those who had gathered around me began to join in.

I held the ball of tissue up in the air like a trophy, had a few more hearty laughs with those around me, and then continued my shopping.

After all, I was "mature" enough to be the butt of a joke!  ; )

“The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate.”

Douglas Engelbart

Funny Faux Pas Follies #1 - Blame it All on Hormones!

Welcome to week one of Funny Faux Pas Follies!

I think we're headed for five weeks of sidesplitting laughter and a rip-roaring good time.

I hope you've come prepared to give a laugh or two at my faux pas and share a few of your own. 

But, if you can't laugh at yourself, feel free to laugh at me!  ; )

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It seems that from the moment we females enter puberty, our hormones are determined to take us on a carnival of rides. 

First we're up, then we're down.  Next thing you know, we're spinnin' round and round!

It's a virtual theme park—and even at times, a house of horrors.

And if all that "normal" hormonal excitement is not enough, there are always the additional thrills associated with "pregnancy hormones". 

WHOA!!!

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Honestly, during that nine months, I think we can claim temporary insanity—and be totally justified in the claim!

We find ourselves feeling (as in emotions), eating, saying and doing things that might have been "out of character" before those specialized hormones kicked in. 

And while every pregnancy is different, there are enough common factors associated with the condition to merit a special club.

Webster's defines a club as:  "a group identified by some common characteristic"—something other than a big belly, in this case.

One of the most common characteristics, shared in this club, is the need for frequent potty breaks—and so begins my story.

I found that as my pregnancy progressed, I needed to "go" more frequently, and it was increasingly harder to "hold it".

On this particular day—toward the end of what seemed liked a very looong pregnancy—I had just entered a retail store, that I had shopped in hundreds of times, when that very familiar sense of urgency gripped my body.

And, of course, in this particular store, the restrooms just happened to be in the very back of the store.

So I scurried away in that direction, as quickly as my plump little belly would allow me.

Now, the square footage of this store was about that of your typical Super Walmart, so picture being almost nine months pregnant and trying to get from the front of the store to the back—IN A BIG HURRY!

Boy, was I glad I had been faithfully practicing my Kegel exercises.

I don't know of a time when I've been any happier to see those universal signs and symbols on two doors, than I was that day.

I had barely crossed the threshold when I began pulling down my pants—yes, I had to go that badly!

But, I was suddenly struck by the fact that something was amiss.

Weren't the stalls on the left side of the room just two weeks ago? 

And why on earth did they take the doors off the stalls?

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something even more perplexing.

Now why would they install urinals in the ladies' restroom?!

Then reality struck.  Oh no!  I couldn't have!

Yep; I did.  I was standing in the middle of the men's restroom, with my pants partially down!

Giving my clothing a quick jerk upward, I dashed out the door and into the one beside it—all the while praying that no one saw this comedy of errors.

But, while I was sitting there, I came up with the perfect excuse, should I find it necessary to explain my curious behavior.

I would just blame it all on hormones!  ; )

IF YOU LINK TO THE PARTY, PLEASE BE SURE TO LINK BACK TO THE BRAMBLEBERRY COTTAGE ON YOUR BLOG.