I’ve had a couple of really embarassing moments happen to me (or around me) recently that I thought I’d share. It’s just such a huge part of my life. Seriously.
So, first of all, I’m so embarrassed about the last post I had. Yes, I watch a lot of T.V. I’m pretty open about that. But I want to make it clear that I do other things as well! Really and truely! I play with my kids, read to them and sing to them, and Aiden and I are doing preschool. I read to myself (a LOT. I have to limit my reading time so that I will do other things, too). I scrapbook and find little crafts to do. I choreograph and teach two color guards. I teach private flute lessons and spend time coming up with lesson plans (although my students are studying right now, so I’m not doing much with that). When I find the time, I pick up one of my instruments and practice (flute, piccolo, or violin). I clean my house and rearrange furniture or reorganize (kind of anal that way). I go to the park, to friends’ houses or have them come over, to the library, the Family Center, wherever. I listen to lots of music… on the computer, on the stereo, in the car, on Ches’ iPod (whenever I can steal it). Okay, I’m more than a little embarrassed about my TV watching. I feel like I have to defend myself. Enough of that.
On Saturday I atteded my first marching band competition of the year. This was with the bigger of the two high schools that I work with (RHS, for clarity later) that has almost 30 girls on the guard. I am one of three instructors, and not the head one (whew. I’d be way to stressed if I was). It was a pretty long day, but not all of it bad. You kind of get to the point where there is nothing else you can do but say “Good luck, have fun, and smile.”
So anyway… as the band is waiting just outside the stadium before their turn to perform, the guard did their little “circle” thing where they gather in a circle (could you see that one coming?) and the captains say something inspiring and they might have a little chant or something. As they left the circle, one girl (who is normally bubbly) was running back to her spot, jumping up and down a bit, and yelled “Good luck band! From Leslie!” Right then she totally biffed it! I mean, she slid across the pavement a few feet. The drum majors (who were standing at attention, trying to be all serious) were snickering. Many brass players were outright laughing. I was laughing. As I went over to check on her and put bandaids on her now-bleeding hands, I said, “I’m sorry I’m laughing. It’s just that it was such a Sariah thing to do!” Any of you who have known me for any length of time know that I do that kind of thing on a regular basis. Poor kid. And as I told Ches about it at 4 am, I started giggling all over again and could barely tell him the story. Embarassing, yet funny.
After the competition, we had a little guard party at the head coach’s house where we were going to eat and watch the tape and all kinds of fun girly stuff like that. I had to go pick up my kids and run to the store, so by the time I got to her house, I had forgotten what the coach said her house looked like. So I pulled into the cul-de-sac, noticed one house in particular with a number of cars in front of it, and saw the front door was wide open. There I am, carrying a carseat and a grocery bag of cookies in one hand, a toddler hanging off the other hand, and a huge backpack on my back. I walk in the door — kind of cautiously — and look around, thinking “Nice house, but I wouldn’t have picked this decor of Monica”. Someone is in the kitchen, but it’s awefully quiet. Where are 27 loud teenage girls? The woman comes out of the kitchen and I say “Is this Monica’s house?” The poor woman barely spoke English!!! Once we determined that I was, indeed, in the wrong house, I had to figure out what house I needed to go to. Luckily the woman’s son came out and knew Monica’s kids, so I was pointed in the right direction. They were so nice. So I gave the kid Aiden’s sour Skittles (he didn’t like them and was holding a full bag).
I can’t believe I WALKED INTO THE WRONG HOUSE. As I told Ches this story (at 4:15 am), I was not laughing this time. He, however, was shaking the entire bed with laughter. I was afraid he was going to wake up the boys.
The weekend is over, and so far I haven’t had anything else really bad happen. Give it a day or two. I’ll do something or say something and that will be that. First major reason that Ches married me: He gets to laugh at me.