Carrie's favorite story

Guys, I think this is seriously the most embarrassing story of my life, and one of my Carrie-sister's all time faves.

Honestly, I've shared pretty much all my embarrassing stories with you. Like the time I flashed my dance class, or the time I drooled in front of my crush, or when my kids made a serious mess in the library, and when I got in the wrong car at Target.

I am a firm believer that being able to laugh at myself is one of my strongest traits. So I usually have no problems sharing some of my most humiliating antics.

But I have never shared this story. Until now.

Precursor: 

If you are under the impression that I have never passed gas, turn back now. That's right, folks, this story is about flatulence.

Travel with me in your mind, back about 5 1/2 years ago. Brandon and I were newlyweds, I was pregnant with our first daughter, and we were both in school. 

Now, as a young couple with no children, Brandon and I spent most of our free time laughing and joking with one another. We had a lot more time on our hands to watch movies, laugh at elaborate inside jokes, and create silly traditions.

Of of these jokes, was probably the silliest thing you'll ever hear. Whenever one of us would pass gas, we would say, in the most ridiculous southern accent, "I tooted!" (With the accent, it sounded a bit like "Ah tee-you-ted!")

Every time. At first it was just a funny thing to say, then it became habit. I don't think either of us realized we said it anymore. Which was fine; it was just the two of us.

Until one day it wasn't.

I was in hair school at the time, and one afternoon, I was sitting in the break room at the school with about 15 other students. I had wedged my pregnant self onto a table with 2 of my friends, because the chairs in the room were all full. As we sat there chatting, I felt a fart coming.

I tried to hold it in, I really did, but sometimes these things can't be helped.

It broke loose, and without thinking about it, I announced to the whole room, "I tooted!" rather loudly, in the accent and everything.

Everyone stopped and stared at me. Crickets chirped.

One of the friends sitting next to me looked at me like I was crazy, and said "Did you really?" 

What was I to do?!? If I own up to it, they all think I'm gross. If I lie, and say that I was just kidding, then I'm the weird girl who interrupted an entire room of conversation to falsely announce that I let one rip. 

Guys, I owned up to it. I quietly answered that yes, I had in fact tooted. They all continue to stare. 

I decided to run. I excused myself to go check my phone or some other transparent excuse, and tried to quickly and quietly sneak from the room. But, being pregnant, and sitting up on a table, this wasn't an easy task. As I scooted inch by inch to the edge of the table where I could perform my dismount, all eyes were still on me. And I'm pretty sure the intensity of my blush actually singed my eyebrows.

Here's the kicker. The fart was actually quiet enough, that had I kept my mouth shut, chances are that no one would have noticed at all. 

I came home from school that day, told Brandon that we had to break that habit immediately, and seriously considered wearing a bag over my head to school the next day.

Day 10, Most Embarrassing Moment

I forgot when I started this challenge how crazy May was going to be for us. Brandon graduates, we have family coming to visit, and we move across the state. Maybe starting a daily blogging challenge wasn't a super awesome idea. So, chances are, this won't be the last time I miss a day. Oh well.


May 10th (late, sorry)- Your Most Embarrassing Moment

This one was kinda tough. Not because I didn't want to share my embarrassing moments, or heavens knows not because I don't have any (ha!), but because I've already shared most of them!
You can check them out here and here and here and here and here.

But, I did think of one that I haven't shared before. So here you go!

Once upon a time, I lived in Utah to go to BYU. One semester, I was lucky enough to nab an open spot in Intro to Ballroom Dance. You see, at BYU, Ballroom is the most coveted class ever, and usually lower-classmen never get in. I was so excited! The only problem was that my class was at 8am, and I am not a morning person.
The only grades in the class were 3 tests and a final, and our attendance. My attendance wasn't perfect, on account of the early hour, so I was relying on the tests to carry me.
Now, the tests in Ballroom were different than most classes. Each test was over a certain genre of ballroom dance, like foxtrot or cha cha. We were paired up, and in front of the whole class, had to dance. We only had a few minutes, and we had to show good form, be on the right counts, and incorporate at least a certain number of special moves.
My first test wasn't great, which is another story for another day. My next two tests were alright, and so I was pretty confident going into the final. It was over the Swing. To this day, I can't remember any of the Swing. I think I repressed it in my humiliation.
My partner and I took our places and started to dance. We were doing pretty well, when disaster struck. On one of our special moves, the heel of one of my shoes got caught in the strap of the other. It hurt too, scraped up my foot, and I started to bleed.
But the worst part is that I fell. Let's be real here, I didn't just fall, I bit the dust. I crashed. I smacked the ground...with my face.
That's not even the most embarrassing part of this whole ordeal. I was wearing a skirt. It flew up over my head, and the whole class got a good view of my undies. And I was wearing quite small undies.
I was mortified, of course, but our turn wasn't over. I had to get back up, and finish my test. Red-faced and bleeding, I was so flustered that I messed up over and over and over. After my turn was done, I grabbed my bag and ran from the room. I'm pretty sure I cried the whole way home.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how I flunked dance class.

library adventures

Sometimes I wonder why I have so much gray hair.

I took the girls out in public today.
Its been so hot and we haven't ventured outdoors much in the last few days, I thought they needed to get out. We stopped by Sonic on the way and got drinks (juice for Portia, Dr. Pepper for Mommy), and headed to the library. As we got out of the car, I reminded Portia that there is a bathroom here, and if she needs to go, she should come tell me. We went in and started playing, and sure enough, after a few minutes, Portia came and told me she had to pee.
The Norman library has a bathroom just for kids that is great. Everything is smaller, so the kids can come in and go without help. Portia loves it. I scooped up Margot, and we headed in. Portia did her business and we went back out to play.
A few minutes later, I noticed Portia standing off by herself, very still (bad sign)! You guessed it folks. She had pooped.
So I grabbed my bags, picked up Margot again, and headed back to the bathroom. I put Margot down on the floor, silently praying no toddlers had missed the toilet lately and started cleaning Portia up.
She kicked the poop onto the floor.
So now, I had to clean up Portia and the floor. I think at this point, my eye started twitching. I got the floor clean, and Margot started trying to play with the poop in the toilet.
In case you've never tried it, cleaning up a 3 year old and simultaneously herding a 10 month old away from a toilet in a 3x3 foot room is really difficult.
I finally got Margot away from the toilet and Portia clean, and realized that I had forgotten a clean set of panties. Then Margot grabbed my half-full Sonic cup and dumped Dr. Pepper all over the floor.
Yeah. Really.
I started trying to mop that up with paper towels, but to no avail. The floor and the 3 of us were covered in sticky soda.
I got Portia to wash her hands, and ushered them out as quickly as I could, walking right past the line of other kids and mothers waiting to use the restroom. Not at all embarrassing.
Portia then realized that we weren't going to play anymore and threw a huge tantrum. How someone can both stomp and drag their feet at the same time is beyond me, but she did. I was just hoping that her skirt wouldn't flip up, because she was going commando.
We got home, I tossed the girls in the bathtub, and shreded my library card.
Not really.
But we won't be venturing out of our house again for a little while.

Middle school was hard.

In the 7th grade, I had a huge crush on a boy named David. He was the most popular boy in school, on the football team, and I was so enamored. My status was definitely on a much lower rung on the middle school success ladder, but I still imagined that we could be part of a She's All That inspired love story.
David sat right next to me in my 1st and 2nd hours, and I don't think he spoke to me once. I was constantly a nervous wreck. What if he looked over and my hair looked weird? What if he needed to borrow a pencil? What if we were assigned to do - gasp - partner work?!?
Months went by without any of these things happening. David didn't know I was alive. But I still pined, and life went on.
I soon was the not-so-happy recipient of braces. I hated them. They tore my mouth up, and made me look even more goofy, and they made me do something so terribly embarrassing. For the first few weeks, my mouth wasn't quite used to them, and I started producing more saliva. Ok, ok. I drooled. When I was laughing really hard or talking a lot, sometimes I would drool. It was humiliating and I wanted to die whenever it happened. But so far, no one seemed to have noticed that I had this problem. Until one day.  
I was at school in my 1st hour. My friend Samantha had come back to my desk to chat and of course, David was sitting beside me. Sam and I were laughing really hard at something, and suddenly, my worst nightmare came true.
I drooled. David turned to me, for the first time in my life, and spoke. "You have some spit on your face."


Yeah, Middle School was hard.

i am losing my mind

I have debated with myself over and over about sharing this story, as it is a bit embarrassing for me. But, I just can't let the hilarity of it go to waste. So here you are!

Portia has had a very hard time sleeping this week, her teeth are really bothering her at night, so I haven't had alot of rest. Monday night, Brandon and I were headed over to a friend's house, and we decided to bring apple cider (put apple cider, orange slices and cinnamon sticks in the crock pot, yum!). We needed to stop by the grocery store to get the orange slices, so on the way, Brandon pulled up to the door of Target, and I ran in.
I hurried to get my stuff, and headed back out to the car. As I left the nice, warm store, I was hit in the face by a freezing cold blast of wind. My hair was whipped into my face, and I could barely see the car just a few feet from the door.
Suddenly, someone in the parking lot started honking their horn over and over. What a doofus! Didn't they know that they were annoying everyone in the whole store? And who is the dork who can't find their car, causing the driver to honk incessantly?
I got to our car, opened the door and sat down. I turned to mock the horn-honker to Brandon, and was shocked to see a stranger! He was shocked too, and said "You have the wrong car!" Brandon had moved, and another dark colored civic had pulled into his space!
I quickly got out and hurried over to Brandon, who, as you might have guessed, was still honking the horn!