I have a confession. This is probably a TMI (Too Much Information) confession that I am going to share with you, but I’m going to tell you anyway because I have a funny story that goes with it. A funny, as in, only funny now that I look back and definitely not funny when it happened kind of funny. It took a good three months before I felt that I was ready to tell you this story. So back to my confession. Are you ready?
I only sleep in underwear and a tank top. Not TMI? Good. Let’s continue.
So I only sleep in an underwear and a tank top and can’t stand anything on my legs and feet under the covers. I’m not sure why that is, but there aren’t many things more uncomfortable to me that getting under the covers with some pajama pants. Except maybe that time Brooklyn told the Headmaster at Masillon, the private Catholic school she attends, to not talk to her. You can read all about that doozy here. Or maybe the time I got a partial breast massage. You can read that one here.
So this must be where Brooklyn gets it from. That’s right, she refuses to wear pajamas pants. At all. Even when it’s a pajama kind of day, she refuses to wear the cute matching pajama pants. And she still refuses when she gets cold sitting on the tile floor to play. Know what she does? She goes and gets Gant and sits on that. I’m not sure if that is ridiculously smart or ridiculously stubborn. We can usually bribe (Don’t judge. It works for us!) Brooklyn to do about anything by promising her to go to the park or to get ice cream, but nothing will work when it comes to bribing her to wear pajama pants. And just so you know, she also won’t wear footie pajamas.
Wait….what were we talking about? Oh yeah, my embarrassing moment.
So I wake up one morning to get ready to take Brooklyn to school. I, of course, am in my underwear and tank top, sans bra, and my hair pulled up in a messy bun on the top of my head. I wake Brooklyn up and get her some breakfast to eat while she watches cartoons. We walk to the living room and multiple things happen at once.
One of the painters that was working on our building walks by. When I saw him, I froze. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do and it felt surreal like I was in another person’s body. When he saw me he froze. He looked awkward. He looked guilty. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. We both looked like a deer caught in headlights. Then he finished walking across the balcony.
You know how people say something was the longest three seconds of their life? Well, it’s true. It was the longest three seconds of my life.
So after the painter walks by, I am able to remove myself from being planted to the floor. I realize I had been holding my breath and exhale. I think to myself, “Holy Cow, did that just happen? How am I ever going to be able to show my face to any of the workers?”
I’ll bet he ran straight to his buddies to tell them what happened! And who can blame him? That’s what I would have done!
Now in my defense, we live in the tallest building around and besides that, all the buildings are far enough away that people wouldn’t be able to see what I was wearing anyway. And we are on the 7th floor and we don’t have to worry about people being able to get on our balcony. I also knew the workers were working on the building, but they are French and never come to work early. Except this day I guess. So the combination of this painter showing up to work an hour early and that fact that we left the blinds up the night before led to this most embarrassing moment. Or at least the most embarrassing moment lately.
Do you think this changed my mind on wearing pants? No. It didn’t. Not even close. Although I did start closing the blinds at night or peeking around the corner first if I was walking into the living room with only panties and a shirt on.
Oh the joys of living in an apartment in the city.
What is your most embarrassing moment? Is it worse than mine? Please share it with me!