An embarassing moment.
I know some people who are embarassed by almost anything. I don’t get embarassed very often. I think it is because the root of embarassment is caring what other people think about you. Self evaluation has always mattered to me more than societal evaluation. There are always exceptions of course. Today held a shining example of a truly embarassing moment. Howard and I had brokered a deal with the Young Men’s activity group in our ward that we’d make a donation to their budget if they would come and dig eight post holes in our front yard. Our baby grape plants need structure to support them. The teenage boys and their two adult leaders arrived on schedule. I remained in the front yard to help out and give directions. I’d already layed out the posts where I needed the holes. Gleek and Patches were “helping” as well, mostly by drinking up all the lemonade. That’s the backdrop to this alarming display performed by yours truly.
I stomped on a shovel with my right foot to drive it into the dirt. The shovel twisted under my foot throwing me off balance. I stepped to the side to regain my balance, but instead of the ground, my right foot encountered one of the posts. The post tipped under my foot and threw me further off balance. My weight had already shifted to the right foot, so in order to remain upright I had to twist and bring my left foot across, causing me to pivot. I was halfway through the pivot when I realized that Patches was right where I needed to step. By this time everyone else realized that I was in some kind of trouble and I had their full attention. I could not miss Patches. I tried, but center of balance was a long gone memory. I collided with Patches causing his begged for lemonade to spill all over him. I managed not to land on him by taking a couple of staggering steps and rolling. During this last maneuver my carefully bound hair came completely loose. I ended up flat on my back 15 feet away from where I’d had a little shovel bobble.
There was a very long moment where everyone in the yard wondered what on earth had happened and wondered if I was injured. I sat up, saw the stares, and did what any mortally embarassed person would do. I hid. In this case I hid by hyper focusing on Patches who was sitting on the lawn crying and dripping with the remains of his beloved lemonade. By paying attention to Patches I didn’t have to actually look at any of the folks who witnessed my bizarre acrobatics. Once Patches was settled with a fresh cup of lemonade I went into the house to regain my composure and to tame my wild hair.
I suppose I could have stayed in the house and made Howard go out to finish the supervision, but this was my project. I was the one who knew how things needed to be done. Besides the best way to erase and embarassing moment is to confront it directly in the presence of the witnesses. If I stayed in the house those teenage boys might have found humor in telling tales of what that wierd Mrs. Tayler did for no apparent reason. Instead I went out and made a story of it, describing it in much the same ways that I did above. At least this way if they tell the story, it will be my story and I can laugh with them about. But I don’t think they’ll bother to tell it now because instead of a bizarre event, it is now just one of those bobbles that happen to us all.
Anyway, I now have posts in the ground and once I get the cross pieces installed, my grapes will have a place to grow.