Learning to laugh at yourself

Throughout my teens, twenties and a fair amount of my thirties, I was excruciatingly self-conscious.

 

I don't know if it's old age or if I'm just finally growing up. But at last we have a breakthrough: I'm able to laugh at the embarrassing things I do as I muddle my way through my average life.

 

I've also stumbled upon another revelation: If you share your little faux pas with others, they laugh too. Not at you but with you.  And you tend to get over it a lot more quickly. If they are true kindred spirits, they join in by recounting their own cringe worthy red-faced moments.

 

What's that I'm hearing? It's my turn first? Oh well, if you must...

 

Read on and FEEL BETTER.

 

• I once sat through a pre-school presentation with an assortment of children's hats and gloves in my hood.  My little 'uns had seen me do this with their own winter accessories when I was hanging up their coats at nursery. They'd clearly concluded that mummy's larger hood made a better receptacle for their many bits and pieces.  To make matters worse, I had chosen to be a 'keen bean' who sat in the front row.  So yes, that's right, almost everyone in the audience had a full view of me and my stuffed hood.

 

• I have been known to drive off from work meetings with my folder and meeting notes on the roof of the car.  (Please tell me this doesn't only happen to me.)  On one particularly memorable occasion, I had to dart across a busy dual carriageway in stilettos and a shift dress, desperately trying to recover pages of important information while dodging articulated lorries and other fast moving vehicles.

 

• I once managed to drive the car into our own garage door.  (Saved the best 'til last, didn't I?) The seat was adjusted to suit hubby (strapping lad) and not me (petite lady).  Keys in ignition, car starts to move, driveway's on a slope, can't reach pedal, too shocked to remember about handbrake. CRASH.  Our nine-year-old, something of a drama queen, revelled in telling everyone that mummy had not only crashed the car into her own property but had also (cue hushed tones and pause for effect) "said a bad word".

 

I could add to the authenticity of that last story by inserting a photograph of our (popped out but still dented) garage door. But even my ability to share doesn't quite stretch to that.  So instead I'll leave you with this parting thought:

Are you brave enough to share any embarrassing moments? Leave a comment - I dare you!

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