humiliation

I suppose there are many forms of humiliation really, some more humiliating than others, but this week has been full of it. (well last week really, but this post wouldn't cooperate, so I am re-posting.) Unintentionally wrecking your friend's car when you agreed to switch cars with her for the weekend so that she could take her visiting family to Portland for the weekend would be one. Yikes. Yes, it happened. That is what I get for wanting to go to Portland. Now Shelly has no car for the next month or so. Oops. Bad idea. No, this is not the humiliation of mine, but I'll get to that. Again, there are many forms.

Perhaps humiliation is having to be carried out, upside down, from the library, by your mother because you are screaming and yelling so loud at the Big Bird on the library computer monitor that the behavior begins to draw stares and shushes by librarians and other elderly patrons. Again, not my own humiliation, but I do believe Wynne would agree he was humiliated by the event.

Now on to my own...its Wednesday night. Shelly and I have already treated the boys to a morning at the skatepark and tons of fun besides, but because we are loving, adoring parents, we decide to take all 5 boys swimming at the YMCA for the evening, followed by supper out at the Puerto Vallarta mexican restaurant. The swimming part went just fine. It was the pool removal process that proved somewhat difficult.
Wynne had to go to the potty, which, as anyone with a 3 year old knows, is not an individual sport. Yes, this requires a mom for escort, so I took him to the locker room, while Shelly extracted the other 4 from their chlorine enrichment. Shell finally got them all out of the pool and in line waiting for an open "family locker room" (of which, there are only 4 of these, what the ?$@#*?? Hello, families are the ones using the Y, make more of these people, or make the women's locker room more family friendly for those of us with male children people!!!) It should be noted here that Shelly was holding all the clothes, shoes, towels, goggles, purses, etc. necessary to make a trip to the Y, since I was assisting W at the time. Finally, we procure a locker room, get the boys showered, match up the appropriate clothes to child, and eventually ourselves begin to get dressed. Oh yes, we swam too. I begin to put on my clothes only to realize that they were the closest thing to Shelly's swimwear when waiting for the locker room, which is to say, they are soaked. The boys are starving at this point, we've promised them mexican and home is a distance from here. What to do?
I push my skirted swim bottom down as low as I can as not to offend anyone, and make it out of the Y and into the car dripping wet and a bit embarrassed. No big deal, people understand I was swimming, right?
No what? I consider going for nachos in this get up but realize I will make a huge puddle in the restaurant and never be invited back, so the only thing left to do is find another acceptable get up. What is near? Target, of course.
Shelly drops me off ALL ALONE to run into Target, IN MY SWIM BOTTOMS,in the middle of January mind you, to grab a new pair of pants and get out. Easy right? Okay, I walk quickly to the athletic section, grab pants, get to the check out (enduring many eyebrow raising stares) only to be DENIED at the checkout for my $17 purchase. C'mon! Seriously Target, I have been shopping with you for long enough, I am good for it.
I walk back out to the car, borrow $ from Shelly and go back in, only to endure more humiliation, grab another pair of pants and finally make it out with new bottoms, hooray!!! Sure, we all have to go through a bit of humility to be human, or at least decent people, but I feel I've been sent a message lately. Hmmm.. Okay, I'm out. Until next time....