I ran into an aisle and boy, was I crying. I will never forget looking back at my shoe and just seeing it perched upright, like a statue of embarrassment. “Well, her idiot daughter got her shoe stuck in the escalator and now it’s smoking and burning and the whole store is going to be shut down”, I thought to myself. My mom suddenly turned into her church self, talking about how awful it was and that the escalator must have malfunctioned. The pastor stopped and asked what happened. There’s Pastor.”, my mom said in the most mortified tone I’d ever heard her use. So, God himself must have had a sense of humor that day, as a familiar face came walking up the now-stopped escalator. We were a strong Lutheran church-going family, and we always sat in the front pew. I don’t think my mom knows I heard her, but she said over and over again “This is so embarrassing.” The store manager came running and shouted, “Turn off the escalator!” So, there we are, in the middle of Golde’s, and my shoe is emitting a hazardous vapor into the air as the heat from the escalator and friction of the grind made it smell like an electrical fire. She immediately checked my toes to make sure they were still there (they were). Without any care or caution, my mom ripped my foot out of my shoe. The front end of the shoe was being munched by the grind of the escalator. It was only then I looked back and saw my tennis shoe, with the extremely thick sole, was stuck. She huffed the mom huff and walked over and grabbed my hand screaming “Get up, you are embarrassing me.” She looked back at me and said “Jennifer Renee (my ‘in trouble’ name), GET UP!” “But mom I can’t!” I was so confused about what was happening, I just kept trying to get up. Think about how you do a calf stretch, that’s what I did with my foot on the escalator step, as I had done many times before.Īs we got to the top, I saw my mom and sister walking away, and I couldn’t move. I nestled my foot into the steps as they went up, putting half my foot facing the “up” portion of the step and the other half flat down. I examined the handrail, evaluated the outfits of the people going down while I was going up, and eventually made a fateful decision. I was probably around 10 years old, and my mom, sister, and I were doing some shopping at a story called Golde’s in the St. However, my most embarrassing moment came in one of my favorite places on earth – the shopping mall. None of the items could remotely be tied to my parents. That got me thinking about all the times I fell, slipped, crashed down from a tree, bailed from my bike when the brakes didn’t work, got stuck in the chimney trying to catch Santa, etc. I guess that explains why I am single, eh? I told her “Next time your husband slips and falls, ask ‘WHAT THAT MY FAULT TOO?’”. So today, one of the moms wrote a post about her son who slipped and fell and was getting shamed by her husband for it. As a lover of children, they welcomed me into the group. Now, I am unfortunately not a mom, but that group is my target demo and I want to know their concerns, questions, and challenges in our community. I’m inspired to write today after reading a comment in a Facebook Group.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |