Awkward Moment Twenty Seven: When your parents embarrass you

You’ve gotta love that awful scenario of being out somewhere in public and having your parents talking their mouths off to total strangers about who the heck knows what, oblivious to the beautifully bright shade of red that your face is turning. That is just so much fun. I’d rather cliff dive onto cement. How about the time I was at the grocery store and my dad decides to really actively participate in the selection of my feminine products. Dad, this is not the same as downloading computer software. Come on, let’s just stick to what we know. Clearly you are not receiving the telepathic messages I am frantically sending you. Oh, sure, go ahead! Excellent idea, ask the really hot guy stocking shelves where the pads are! No dad, not pads, tampons! Do I look impressed?

“Do you want wings or no wings?!”

Why are you yelling! Inside voice dad!! Let’s just pretend that never happened.

Or you know what’s even better? When it’s not a complete stranger. Let’s just put the icing on the cake. Nope, it’s a teacher!

In August my mum and I were in Winner’s shopping for a summer dress for me. I had already put the dress I liked on hold and we were just picking it up so this should not have been such an ordeal. But it always is. Damn you Murphy’s Law! Oh how lovely. Look who it is. It’s two teachers from my school and their son. Now as Mia mentioned earlier, I quite frequently forget that teacher’s have lives outside of school. They aren’t supposed to just show up at shopping malls and grocery stores. It’s just not allowed. Who are we kidding, of course it’s allowed. And of course my mum has to hold up my (absolutely adorable, might I add) jean dress and ask “Is this appropriate for school?” I guess this was just her idea of a joke. Just hilarious, mum! Everyone’s just about to split a gut laughing! Okay. So what? It’s not that embarrassing. My face begs to differ. I can feel the colour inching up from my neck and into my face. Why? Why does this happen to me? I hate it when my face goes fuchsia. Because then all I can think about is how red my face is and it doesn’t stop, it just gets worse and worse. And I am baking alive in whatever I’m wearing and really just need to get outside into some fresh air. But instead I stand there awkwardly smiling and nodding pretending to follow along with the conversation even though I stopped paying attention a good 20 minutes ago. AWKWARD!!!
-Millie