August 17, 2011

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop - 08/18/11 - One Awkward Moment After Another

The prompt I chose this week: An awkward moment.

Being The Boy's mother, it's hard to pick just one awkward moment. He has the uncanny knack for saying oh-so-inappropriate things at the most, well, inappropriate times.

This is a re-post, but this shoe still fits...and it pinches.

Exhibit One: Humiliated much?

Being The Boy's mom is often an education in dealing with my own mortification, as well as the discomfort of others. I am confident that if there were a degree program for mortification, I'd be June Freaking Cleaver, DPE (Doctor of Perpetual Embarrassment).

During one of his typical sessions of verbal magic, I will sit and wonder why Warner Brothers and Acme never put this item on the market, because I'd be sure to have been one of their best customers:

Acme Portable Holes

Here is just one fine example of the humiliation I've suffered through intensive course of study I've participated in.

I show up at The Boy's school (a state-approved private special education facility), which I will refer to as "That Waste of Time" (TWOT). I arrive at the TWOT with my panties in a wad (double entendre intended), as I had an appointment to meet with the staff about The Boy's tenure at their fine facility building where The Boy learned absolutely nothing.

I arrive on time, which in Special Ed speak means that I am the first one to show up for the meeting. The Boy is with me, as he was on home instruction had been kicked out of the school. The school psychologist, Dr. I. DontknowathingIjustgivetests (not his real name) greets us in the lobby, and escorts us to our meeting room. We make small talk as the other meeting attendees start to tear themselves away from their important work with disabled children straggle in.

Somehow, the topic of conversation becomes The World's Fair in Flushing Meadow, NY, in 1964. The psychologist mentions something about being there - I say that I visited there on a family vacation. 

I notice The Boy getting visibly excited. I sit silently, the distinct sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach starting to assert itself. I await the pearls of wisdom that will soon be flying out of his mouth. There is a palpable slowing of time when The Boy gets on a roll. My chair creaks as I try to make myself invisible. All eyes are on me, and the wonder child beside me.

I hear every tick-tock of the clock on the wall.

The Boy, apparently caring only about my lifelong happiness, wants to seal the deal he has worked out in his head already. He takes the psychologist's left hand and lifts it up. He says, "Hmmm, no ring." 

He says the same thing while holding up my left hand. 

"You two have lots in common. A match made in Heaven. Ahhh, I guess my work here is done." 

With that, The Boy, feeling satisfied with his matchmaking success, leans back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, and sighs, signaling the end of the prenuptial negotiations.


I could have cut the tension with a knife.

I don't recall who begins speaking first. Somehow, the blood that had all run to my face eventually returns to my other body parts. I feel the last of the perspiration trickle down my back. We continue with our meeting. I don't remember anything that was discussed or decided.

I was never so glad to leave a building in my life.

I don't say anything to The Boy until we are safely in our car. "You embarrassed me, do you know that?"

"THAT embarrassed you? I had no idea...I'm sorry."

Exhibit Two: The Final Assault

I'm thinking that the The Boy missed one too many Social Skills classes at that school.

At our final meeting at the school, we showed up with an education attorney. The Boy's attorney asked the teacher a simple, direct question about classroom procedures. The teacher was hemming and hawing, using doublespeak to avoid any semblance of an answer.

The Boy swooped in for the kill. "Mrs. Letsdotheminimunshallwe (not her real name), why don't you stop talking like a politician, and just answer the question?"

I bet the teacher heard every tick-tock of the wall clock that day.


  1. I don't know what's funnier, the stuff The Boy said our the names you changed to protect the guilty! Love it.

  2. Oh my gosh. I can not even imagine hearing that said. I can't believe he did that and then he said 'THAT embarassed you?' So funny! Or not. I got red just reading about it.

    Boys are the best, aren't they?

  3. ROFLMBO that last one was at least some semblance of truth though right?? I love those moments seriously I do, I don't think I can get embarassed anymore.

  4. Too funny.

    Did you high five The Boy after exhibit two??

    That really needed a high five and a slap on the back.

    Awesome comeback!


  5. I think the kid did good on the second one! The first one, very awkward indeed.

    Stopping by from writers workshop.

  6. Love the names. And, yeah, you need an escape hatch worse than I do I think, but that's only because The Dudes are still young I'm sure!

  7. My first son is like that. He says whatever pops into his head. He has ADHD and was diagnosed with oppositional defiant disorder. Unfortunately when he turned 18 he moved out and stopped going to therapy.

    It may not have been funny at the time but I am sure if you reread what you wrote you will find the humor in this Have a great day

  8. oh my gosh. I so feel for you. But man, he's funny. And so are you. (that's not her name).

  9. "Doctor of Perpetual Embarrassment" story of my life!!!! That couldn't have been any more hilarious NOW seeing as it was probably the least funny moments of your life then. Keep writing!

  10. Wow, I could feel your pain as I read your post. Love the idea of an escape porthole. I know a few times I really could have used one!

  11. Hahahaha, I love how he said "THAT embarrassed you?" So great. Although Im sure not so funny for you at the time.

  12. Wow, I am not sure how old your child is but do I see my special needs child following in his shadow! It is sure amazing how our "disabled" children can get right to the heart of the matter, don't they?

  13. I think i'm in love with your boy. Not in a creepy way! i just think he's hysterical. My work here is done, indeed!

  14. I love your boy - that kind of candor is only awkward because it is so rare :)

  15. I would've melted into a puddle of mortification on the first one, but the second one was FUNNY! I think I would've laughed out loud!

  16. I'm sure it was awful at the time but it is very funny to read about. And I had the Little One announce to the neighbors the other day, "I'm here with my dad and my mom will be here soon but she's at home right now pooping." Lovely.


Thanks for stopping by. I love your comments...I get all warm inside just reading them!