So (apparently my new place of employment has caused me to start 67% of all my sentences with "so", making me sound like a 7th grade girl) I have mentioned at least 1,000 times that I am sort of shy. I don't like to draw attention to myself in large groups of people, I don't like to be singled out to come up on stage at events, and speaking into a microphone prompts me to have to psyche myself up the night before so I don't pass out. When I am embarrassed, my face gets noticeably red, I stammer, and I start looking for a hole to crawl into. But the older I get, the more I have noticed that although I still possess the ability to embarrass myself, I don't take it as personally as I used to. This was played out perfectly during this past summer. It was the summer of pregnancy. The summer of nausea. And the summer wherein I sort of humiliated myself and laughed about it.
I went to visit my parents at their home in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas, in late July. Larry had football things going on and wasn't going to be home much. So I packed up the kids and drove through the hills to Arkansas. I was too far along in my pregnancy to be driving comfortably. My back was killing me. I had to stop to powder my nose every five seconds (that is code for something else. I am feeling proper today and just don't want to say "GO TO THE BATHROOM". Except I guess I just did.) But I got to Arkansas, and my mom took care of me. She had pitchers of Crystal light waiting for me, a comfortable bed, and a deck for me to lounge on while the kids played happily. It really was nice. We cooked in, went swimming, and, all in all, it was so relaxing.
And then one night, we went to dinner. There is a hamburger joint down the road that is popular with the locals. It was sort of a dive, the kind of place that serves a greasy burger and a great milkshake. When we drove up, there was a large crowd of people waiting outside to get a table. So we stood around for about 15 minutes before we were seated inside. I was trying to be healthy, so I ordered a grilled chicken salad and an ice tea. (and I also knew that neither of my kids would finish their burgers, so if i really needed a bite I would steal one.) I was super thirsty, so as soon as the drinks came I guzzled the tea. And then our food was delivered to the table. Mine looked delicious. I put the dressing on, had a pre-salad bite of Cale's burger, and started to dig in. Except something felt weird in the back of my throat. And in a matter of 2 seconds, I went from getting ready to take a bite of my salad to knowing for sure that I was going to get sick all over the place. Barely any warning. The room went blurry, I forgot about everything else except getting out of the restaurant. As luck would have it, the powder room was outside. And between me and that destination was a crowded restaurant, a glass door (that at the time, I couldn't figure whether it opened out or in) and a passel of people waiting on the lawn outside. In slow motion, as I went towards the door, I didn't make it. Most of the contents of my stomach went all over the glass door. I stumbled outside and the rest of it went all over the grass. Right in front of about 15 people waiting to eat. I put my head down, rushed to the bathroom, and locked the door. I was mortified. For about 10 seconds. And then I thought about it. High school Caryn would have cried. College/young adult Caryn would have a red face. But 34 year old, two kids and 6 months pregnant Caryn couldn't stop laughing. It was just so ridiculous. Who does that? Barfs right and left all over a restaurant? Pretty soon, I heard a knock on the door. As I stood in bathroom, noticing that I felt pretty good by then, I heard someone say, "GET a MOP!". Shortly after, my mom knocked on the door. She was pretty sure I was on my deathbed or something. I felt fine. Now don’t get me wrong, there was no way I was going to parade back through that restaurant. I asked for the keys to the car and sat in the back seat of my dad's Cadillac while I waited for the rest of the family to eat. They brought me ice cream. I ate it slowly but with success. But by then, the whole thing didn't seem like a big deal. I felt bad for making a mess for the employees. I felt bad for spewing my guts in front of the nice people waiting outside. But I would never see them again. So no big deal.
After the fact, as we drove home, my dad mentioned that as I ran for the exit, he shouted out, "She's not with us!" Which makes the entire experience absolutely perfect.
Embarrassing moments happen in life. They sometimes seem like the end of the world in your youth. But by the time you reach the ripe old age of 34, they might not seem so bad. Plus, when your daughter falls into a pond on a field trip, you have stories to remind her of. Or you can at least say, as she stands there with mud up to her armpits, "At least you didn't ralph all over Arkansas!"




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