Wednesday, June 2, 2010

So long good impressions, hello total embarassment.

I don't embarrass easily. Seriously, it takes A LOT to turn my face red. Right now, my face is red. Very red.

Let me set the picture. It's 10am. I am in my pj's (a tank and sweats), hair greasy, face unwashed. I am listening to IHOP while I get my chores done for the day.

My niece is here and my kids are doing a pretty great job at keeping her entertained, as usual.

A few minutes earlier we had turned Skype on to see if Auntie Katie was at home. She wasn't.

I am in the kitchen. The computer with IHOP playing is in the family room.

"Mom, E is pushing buttons on the computer."

"E, no, no."

"Son, get away from the computer."

"Son, why are you waving at the computer?"

"E turned on the camera."

"What? How in the world did she do that!"

In all my greasy, pj, glory, I go to the computer, quite unprepared for what I am about to find.

E did not just turned on a camera. E has called someone. And she hasn't just called any one. She has called Mr. C.

Yep. My son isn't just waving to himself. He's waving and making funny faces at my former professor.

I am suddenly very aware of how unrepresentable I look.

I sit down and apologize, explaining what happened. He is very gracious.

I am ready to quickly end this call an go craw into a hole. Instead, he's ready to chat. Turns out, he was in the middle of sending my husband and I a message.

As we chat (me still very aware of my less than acceptable appearance), my children (with my niece going right along with them) decide this is a good time to show off how silly they can be. They continue to wave at the camera, make faces at the camera, make silly noises at the camera, kick at the camera, show their toys to the get the idea.

Here I am, trying to be "professional" and save what little dignity I have left, while my kids are doing their best to completely sabotage my efforts.

Eventually they get so rowdy I can't even hear what he is saying. Our call ends, and I go looking for that hole to crawl in and die of complete embarrassment.

As embarrassed as I am, I see the humor in the situation, and chuckle to myself.

Once again, my kids have succeeded at keeping me humble.


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