Oh, the Horror

Most people who know me know I don't embarrass easily. I can probably count on one hand the times I have been embarrassed:

1. Sitting in Sister Joan's office, and having to recount what the boys in my class were up to in front of my parents and Monsignor Lucid. This was true shame at its worst...and I hadn't even done anything wrong. To this day, it still makes me a little red in the face.
2. The day my dad started talking to the bum outside of my brother's graduation because he knew the bum and the bum's girlfriend. And there were people I knew standing in line in front of us...
3. When I first brought Luca to the vet because he had a little infection in his private area... I was in the waiting room with a bunch of good looking guys and their big dogs, and the nurse shouted at me, asking what was wrong with my little dog...and I had to decide to use proper terminology rather than "his wee-wee is infected."
4. Today, going into the doctor's office and having to tell her my leg -- which was swollen to about twice the normal size -- was a result of playing kickball. Yes, kickball, and yes, I am an adult (or so they tell me).

While she kept her cool when I was in the office, I bet she had a good chuckle when I left. I mean... adult, swollen leg, kickball...I tried to soften it by saying I had played soccer when the original injury had occurred, and she kept referring to soccer, so I think she, too, was trying to avoid the whole kickball issue. It was nice of her, I thought!