In which I confess that my house is decorated with flatulence…

I posted this on Facebook last night.
If you read it there already, click on, friend.
More tomorrow. 

……….

I meant well.

I did.

But every writer who writes without an editor (blogging! wheeeeee!) inevitably, eventually screws up. Then the dilemma becomes: ignore it, edit it, or laugh.

Now, I wrote from the heart yesterday — that vulnerable place where we mamas are constantly trying to find our way toward being enough — and I’m not poking fun at that true, deep, exposed part of my soul.

However,

Bahahaha!

Here’s the sitch…

……….

I didn’t expect to get any maturity points following yesterday’s How to Decorate for Fall post, especially after I deleted the line that read “decorating with pumpkins is cheap and easy” because I was completely unable stop giggling or writing about what ELSE might be cheap and easy. (i.e. Me after Greg gathers and sorts ALL of the school supplies for FIVE KIDS. Or me after Greg scrubs the stove. Or me after Greg cleans our room. You know, hypothetically speaking. But *right*?)

Now, I’m not generally opposed to talking about cheap-and-easy; it just wasn’t in keeping with the reflective tone of the post. And I’m not opposed to gaining maturity points for deleting cheap-and-easy, either, but maturity points are tricky business, folks and you don’t typically get them by tooting your own horn.

You see my quandary, right?

    • Giggling at cheap-and-easy = no maturity points
    • Writing about cheap-and-easy = no maturity points
    • Deleting cheap-and-easy with no one to tell you what a great job I did and hand me some maturity points = no maturity points

Shoot.

But then I got this message from a good friend

Beth,

You talked about decorating with ‘young-boy wind’ and I honestly thought you were going to talk about decorating with flatulence.

I’m kinda sorry you didn’t.

And I realized I didn’t even THINK about the gas-passing implication of writing about young-boy wind. (Seriously? I didn’t?) Seriously. I didn’t.

You guys, that’s AT LEAST 5 maturity points for me! And I know I lose a couple of those points for noting how mature I was, but I passed on mentioning cheap, easy AND farting!

THAT’S THREE NET MATURITY POINTS FOR ME!

In conclusion, I win at maturity.

Also, my house is TOTALLY decorated with flatulence.

The end.

……….

P.S. If you feel compelled to, oh, say, confess a time when you unintentionally said or did something embarrassing in public… let’s just say there’s a sympathetic reader here who will listen to your confession with minimal laughter. I swear.

……….

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
19 comments
  1. My first year of teaching, there was a group of 6th grade boys who were a bit defiant. They spent their recesses playing basketball and taunting my students who were younger. As a new teacher I didn’t have a lot of confidence, but I knew from years of being a lifeguard that speaking loudly and with authority helped to project a no-nonsense image.

    One day at the end of recess these boys decided to test me. They slowly wandered to their class line and then stood dribbling the basketballs while looking at me with a whatcha-gonna-do-about-it look. I did not want a direct confrontation, but knew I needed to take control of the moment. So I loudly commanded, “Gentlemen, hold your balls.” Needless to say, they boys were as shocked as I was, and the recess lines all dissolved into laughter.

  2. I used to wait tables. One night a group of 3 men sat down at my table. I approached and gave my usual greeting. I asked if they wanted sourdough bread to start. One man replied, “Do you have any sweet dough? haha!” and they were all chuckling. I wanted to be awesome and joke back, but I didn’t intend the double entendre that I blurted out: “No. I’m sorry, there’s no sweet dough. And there’s no dill dough either.” 0_o

  3. I’m new to your blog from reading crappypictures and I just say I love your stuff!!

    I tend to subconsciously create embarrassing moments so ill give you the latest two (yes, I couldn’t pick between these two) 🙂

    1) About a week after starting my new job, my new boss was showing me this crazy complicated spreadsheet. At one point, she said “So, you may not ever use this next tab, but I’m really anal and like to know this level of detail” Me, trying to impress my new boss, piped in with “Oh, I would love to hear it. I’m TOTALLY in to anal!” Luckily, she started laughing the minute it came out because there was no way I would have gotten through that training session otherwise.

    2) Same job, fast forward 2 months. I’m on the phone with this sweet teammate and we’re talking about this huge amount of money that we unearthed for our client and how we can recommend the client reallocates it. Instead of referring to this new found money as a “honey hole”, I call it a “glory hole”. Totally different and now I’m convinced she thinks I’m in to weird porn. I swear I’m not, I just think my mind likes to blurt out inappropriate things to keep me on my ties. Luckily, this girl may be more inappropriate than I am, so we had a good laugh 🙂

    1. Welcome, Becca. Thanks for taking time to introduce yourself!

      I’m totally into anal, too. By which I mean, I used to be an executive assistant, and I truly dig a well-done spreadsheet.

      😀

      Your stories cracked me up.

  4. About ten years ago I was coaching girls youth swimming. We had a swim meet on the last day and all of the PARENTS were in attendance. During the “silly swim” relay, I was calling out different strokes for the girls to do, and I yelled in front of everyone “next one is DOGGY STYLE!” … I tried to correct myself by repeating doggy-PADDLE, but slipped up AGAIN! MORTIFYING!

  5. Okay, knowing your older son so well, I just sort of assumed you were waxing poetic when you spoke of the “young-boy wind” that has to be a very common fragrance in your home. You really didn’t even go there????? Um. . . . Yeah.

  6. OK – seriously the best comments on any blog EVER. Thank you.

  7. I call my boys by a variety of pet names. Sweet pea and sweetness are a couple of them. don’t worry, the baby is 6 weeks old and the toddler 2. Anyway, i have found myself combining the two. Starting off “sweet pea” but changing to ‘sweetness” so it comes out ” sweet pea-ness.” Yeah.

  8. … the morning of my highschool graduation we were required to attend a commencement rehearsal… information, rules for graduates, threats for misbehavior ect ect. I, having “celebrated” ALL night the night before was totally exhausted if not a tad hungover… lay my head on the shoulder of the alphabetically placed classmate beside me, and dozed in and out during the long boring rehearsal Then, JUST as the speaker came to a lull in her speech…to the delight and applause of my ENTIRE graduating class, faculty and staff, as well as assorted underclassmen, I MOANED in my sleep. LOUDLY. And not just a little sleepy quiet kitten mew.. but a LOUD sexy breathy mmmmmmooooaaaaaannnnnnn. oh mylanta. I am still amazed that I did not perish from embarassment.

  9. The worst, worst public faux pas (yes, I had to look up the spelling) I ever made was in college Spanish class. We were doing something with verbs and the verb was quitar (which means “to take off”) and someone said “quitaselos” which is the command form and means “take them off”. And I proceeded to say “oh, I hear that all the time”.
    Yeah…
    What I really meant was that I worked with little kids in a Spanish environment and we said that in reference to shoes at the door… but that’s not how it came out and all my classmates – many who were working adults since this was community college – all gave me some really weird looks!

  10. I recently returned from serving in Colombia, South America. While there, I spent one long day working…longer and harder than usual. I was at a friends house for dinner and during prayer fell asleep…twice. It wasn’t a long prayer. Another friend nudged me to wake me and when that didn’t work, she whispered “Ashlee!!” in my ear. I jumped up and saw everyone looking at me and proclaimed “amen!” the prayer wasn’t even finished yet, but my snoring and proclamation made it so. My total count of maturity points now stands at -20…for falling asleep twice in the same prayer and for snoring and suddenly ending it.

  11. At my rehearsal dinner, my mother-in-law was toasting to her son and my, her new daughter-in-law. She was describing how sweet I was and how much she enjoyed it when I stayed at her house because I was so easy. She meant to say easy-going. Not easy. Needless to say, the rest of the family got a big laugh and she never was really able to finish her toast. She turned so red and I thought it was hilarious.

  12. I’ve discussed the new(ish) CPR protocol both at church and before a funeral. 15 to 2 is so yesterday. Now, it’s all about getting the heart pumping STAT and the way to remember that is:

    FAST, HARD, and DEEP.

    You’re welcome.

  13. Oh, we’ve all had those “did I just say that?” moments… My friend Mat once fixed my water heater for me and with graciousness in my heart I said, “Thanks, Mat. I’ll think of you when I’m taking a hot shower tomorrow.” Whaaaa?? Did I just say that?!?

  14. I can’t think of one right at the moment (or perhaps I can’t choose one) but I have to say I TOTALLY understand young boy wind. Like, daily.

    1. Oh, and I am certainly granting you maturity points, because I certainly would’ve gone for it. Oh, yeah.

  15. I have a bad habit of twisting my words when I’m nervous. The first time I left my son (19 yo today. We survived one!) in the nursery at church, he was about 18 mo. I grabbed a toy, intending to distract him from his young mother’s abandonment. “Look, Z-man, isn’t this a cool trire $uck?” As I looked on from that seat of embarrassment, my body just kept on replay with all the sweet little ladies standing around watching me. After repeating the offensive word about a million times, I finally grabbed a puzzle he was interested in.
    Through all that, I did receive 2 maturity points: one for not giggling maniacally at my slip up, and one for not allowing my child to actually pick that phrase up as he learned to speak. 🙂

  16. Too funny!

    In solidarity (and I have no idea whether or not this will make sense to those of you in the US – also hoping I won’t horrify those of a delicate and far more refined disposition than I), I once – in my high-school teaching days – announced this in class: “Adam Snowball has just given me a screw”. And he had. He’d just picked a screw out of the table and handed it to me. Adam Snowball was a pupil. Deary me: talk about speaking before you think! I chose my words far more carefully after that.

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