Here is my Inspiration MondayVII story. Thank you, Stephanie of BeKindRewrite for all your hard work! And a big thank you to Indigo Spider for help explaining pingback and a whole list of other things, too!
This story is for my daughter. When I shared with her the 5 prompts for BeKindRewrite’s Inspiration MondayVII this week, ‘At the Worst Possible Moment’ immediately brought to life for her what had happened at the age of eleven. In memory of those hard pubescent years, here it is!
AT THE WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT
It was an ordinary Sunday morning for everyone except my eleven year old daughter. To her this was a special day. The calendar didn’t acknowledge anything festive or momentous. If you turned to the date it showed just a run-of-the-mill regular black and white day. Our family was getting ready to head to our congregation, a regular Sunday ritual.
The mirror nodded approval and winked at her. She was wearing a new dress, the exact one she had cajoled me into buying a few days prior. She worked hard to get that dress, not with arm twisting, but instead with just the right amount of sweet talking. She had explained the color was a perfect match for her skin and it brought out her eyes, too. The style fit her body perfectly, and, wisely she added, it wasn’t too old-looking for her but at the same time she didn’t look like a measly ten-year old anymore, either.
Her shoes were to die for and she had almost done just that when I said she could get them. They actually had a heel on them, not very high but a heel just the same. Best of all, she didn’t have to wear those disgusting white tights. She had come up in the world, graduated. She had real panty hose on. How long had she been begging to do this? These were big girl panty hose if she ever saw any. She was definitely stylin’!
She had fussed and fidgeted with her hair until it was just right. It was sprayed stiff but looked soft and bouncy. She looked exactly like the blossoming young lady she had been trying to convince me she was. If there had been buttons on that dress we would have heard them popping with pride at each step.
She couldn’t wait to get out of the car once we arrived, couldn’t wait for her friends to see her. Some of them didn’t wear panty hose yet but she was sure after this they would be able to start, too.
We found our seats toward the middle/back of the room, all three of us, my daughter, my son and I. We put our song books, pocketbooks, purses and everything else we had down on the seats and went off to visit with our own friends before things got going.
As things got started and we were sitting there, I told both of my children I was going to be interpreting (American Sign Language) up front and to please pay attention and I would be back after my part was finished.
When I got back to my seat, I realized I had forgotten my song book in the front of the room. I whispered to my daughter and asked if she would mind getting it for me. She beamed. This meant she would be walking up there in front of everyone, so, others, not only her friends would see how well dressed she was today. She nodded in the affirmative and jumped up.
She walked up the aisle and past many members of the congregation. One young man in his early twenty’s was visiting. He had come a few times before. He was sitting on the edge by the aisle and had an unkempt look about him. She passed him on the way up and grabbed my song book. Just as she was turning to come back the whole room happened to get very quiet while waiting for the delayed song music to start.
My so very proud daughter made her way back in the dead silence and just when she passed the chair of the newcomer, at the worst possible moment, there was an extra loud and super long FART that ripped through the silence even vibrating his chair. This was not gas, this was not flatulence. This was a total let-it-rip FART. All heads turned immediately to where the sound was coming from. My daughter was right there, exactly at his seat position when all those heads turned and looked. Everyone thought it was HER. Her face changed from a beautiful soft young pink color to deep embarrassing red. She practically ran to our seats then sat down totally mortified. The music and singing started. She sighed with relief. It saved her.
My son, sixteen months his sister’s junior, thought this was the greatest thing that could possibly ever happen. He had always had a personal relationship with all body sounds and this was an absolute bonus. Right here in this room where the words flatulence and gas weren’t ever discussed it had happened. He was in total cut-the-cheese ecstasy. There was just nothing better than a good toot. He was looking at his peers, winking, grinning and enjoying this mishap. His mind was busy planning, too. He couldn’t wait to get his friends together later. To celebrate this event they would have a contest of artificial farts under the arm. He was already sure none of them could even come close to the one his sister had walked by earlier. That one was the real winner.
To this day there are probably little ole’ blue haired ladies reminiscing about the day the F bomb was dropped, and they are probably swearing they saw the windows shake, the curtains move and the fan lights vibrate. What they probably still don’t know is the innocence of that young eleven year old girl wearing that pretty dress, those new shoes and the big girl panty hose. She just happened to be walking by at the worst possible moment!
Oh my I laughed so hard! Very well done. I can see the pride in the young girl, felt it myself at that age when I could wear heels and look all “grown up” and to have that happen! Mortifying. I also have to smile at her younger brother and his glory in what happen. Wonderful story, thanks for making my Sunday evening!
I am glad you got a kick out of the story. I hesitated but went for it. Here we are 24 years later and my daughter still remembered it! I am not known for my memory so if she hadn’t said anything, I would never have thought of it. It really was quite funny. My son and his friends…typical boys, ALWAYS. I had to get used to that. Sometimes I felt like if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. LOL
That is the best “what happened at church today” story I have heard. She will always remember her first dress-up Sunday, for sure.
Wouldn’t you know something like that would impress a young boy!
She will definitely remember that day. Guess she is over it since she is the one that brought it up as a good story. LOL. And so will my son remember. Ha. Boys will be boys. And I don’t think they ever really change,either. They love things like that. All those kids certainly joked about it enough.
Yay you got the link working!
I got it going only because you walked me through it so well. I would have never in a million years been able to figure it out. THANK YOU so much for all your help. You are the BEST tech teacher I EVER had! 🙂
This is absolutely adorable. Not only is it a cute story; I love the way you tell it. The mirror winking and nodding its approval, and your son thinking it was the greatest thing that could ever possibly happen.
I’m glad your daughter can laugh about it now!
Thank you, Stephanie. She definitely saw the mirror winking approval, but, alas, the best laid plans of mice and men….haha.
My son was a typical boy…that is for sure! LOL.
Thank you for everything and taking the time!
This story is pure delight. I was smiling way before the “incident” just from your description of an eleven-year-old big girl, and what a lovely bond you had/have with her. And your description of your son’s glee is precious.
This is not something she will ever forget. And now we won’t forget it either!
Thank you so much for visiting. I love your pieces and your quick mind translating pieces into writing!
These kinds of memories are good to remember. Unfortunately, so many of them are gone because I didn’t keep a journal. The trials and tribulations of growning up. LOL!
Glad you enjoyed it!
Great story – had me laughing all the way through.
I could so easily picture your daughter’s utter dismay on this big day of hers and her brothers absolute delight.
I am glad you laughed through it. If I can make a guy laugh I am totally satisfied.
I just subscribed to two of your blogs. You are an amazing writer and I look up to you.
Thank you so much for visiting and commenting. It made my day!
Hilarious! I felt so sorry for her, though.
Yes, I remember feeling badly for her, too, when it happened even though it was sooo funny. Thankfully, many of the folks there she had known since she was a baby. But it still can be embarassing for a girl that age.
I can see your soft heart peeking out through your comment, Patti. 🙂 Thank you for stopping by!
Poor thing! Glad she can see the humour in it now. Funny story though.
The way life works, we better see the humor in things or we will be swimming against the tide all the time.
Thank you for stopping by!
Early today I was throwing some ideas around inside my head regarding a photo story I might do sometime down the road. The basic concept works around the idea of ‘In Memory of a Memory’. Your story is a paragon of that theme, if not entirely then to some extent, I do believe. Your composition brings to mind the importance of memories. As our memories are the material of which our imagination draws from. Everything that a creative person envisions comes to being as a result of previous experience.
A beautiful story. Am sure this was a rewarding story to write, that opened the garden gate to more memories and creative good ‘shtufffs’ down the road. Thanks for the story, thanks for ‘the memory’.
Thank you, Hudson, for stopping by. I am enthralled with your new concept around “In Memory of a Memory”. Can’t wait to see what happens with that.
I know how important memory is. I am one of those who forgets more than she ever knows. It drives me so crazy.
Maybe your idea will ‘open the garden gate’ to me down the road. I would love that.
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