I've been so desperately earnest here recently I thought I should lighten up. Someone in a Facebook support group I participate in was sharing an embarrassing moment. I decided to chip in with one of mine as well. It seems I don’t know how to do anything on a small scale so this is more than just a little embarrassing but here it goes.
First, I need to share some embarrassing background. I used to take pole dancing lessons - you know back when my ass was skinny enough to haul up a pole. And yes once upon a time long, long ago it was that skinny. And just in case anyone thinks this means I was less of a kick your ass feminist back then I was not - this was about feeling rock your world sexy for myself after my divorce. I even sent my ex a video of a routine to "Don't Cha". You know the one that goes, don't cha wish your girlfriend looked like me. It really frosted his cookies.
So, back to my embarrassment. I was getting ready one morning for our very last social worker’s visit. We were completing our post placement report. My “gear” from the pole dancing class was in a bag in the back of the bedroom closet. (Do NOT ask why I still had it - that is just TMI - we are not going there) Anyway, I was running around like a loon trying to make sure the house was clean enough to perform surgery on the bathroom floor without antiseptic and my two and a half year old son was playing quietly in his room just across the hall from me. I thought.
When the doorbell rang I went rushing to open it lest a millisecond delay reflect poorly in the final report. The social worker steps in and suddenly there is my son coming down the hall with a red silk thong around his neck, a tasseled pasty stuck to his cheek trailing a red and black feathered boa. After a single stunned heart beat I turned to the social worker and said, “Sorry - we were celebrating his home coming and the strippers were running late.” Thank GOD she had a sense of humor!! Either that or she could tell I just wanted to die and took pity on me. Or who knows maybe she was blinded by the shine on the bathroom floor and didn't get a good look at him before I scooped him up and went to destripper him. (These days I'd just tell her that OT, PT, and Speech are f***ing expensive so I do what I have to. Of course, these days no one would ever believe anyone would pay to see me in a thong and pasties.)
In case anyone was wondering, the possible location of the only remaining copy of the alleged video is highly confidential. (My ex's girlfriend thoughtfully returned the copy I sent him burned to a crisp.) I like to consider that a compliment on how hot I was.