How embarrassment #483

Forgive me, Reader, it's been 5 days since my last confession.....uhhimean post.

I've been coming to write, but every time I do, my sorry self just doesn't want to "go there". Funny that I need to crunch the numbers on what's making me glum first, before I can write it out. And then it's gone. Pfizzle! And then, undoubtedly if it's pregnancy related, it comes back. Boomerang.

SO. Instead. I thought I would pull the dust off an old memory and share, just for old times' sake. I was reminded of this when reading something on another website about whether you would divulge all to your partner and someone replied they kept some things to themselves, especially the "embarrassing stuff". But, if you're like me, your partner is always there when you do or say the stupid thing, or even more tragic, before thinking better of it you tell him what you did/said if he wasn't there.

And such was the case when we got our floor laid a few years back. The carpet layer, I thought, was out at his truck. I, as you do when the front door is wide open and a tradie is coming and going, was in the ensuite toilet with bedroom and bathroom doors agape. I heard footsteps coming down the hall towards our room and, being the delicate wallflower laaady that I am, I yelled out to Steve that "I'm in the toily!" Twice in fact, as his footsteps kept approaching. Yes it was quite frantic-sounding. And yes..... I said toily.

And it wasn't Steve.

Yuh-huh, it was the big, burly, handsome young tradesman making (a somewhat suddenly hasty, no doubt) exit out the front door. Now I didn't know at that time it wasn't Steve. Until Steve came stepping rather more silently into the room, by which time I was washing my hands. He popped his head round the corner and smiled at me, the "I'm just hanging out here, pacing, making my presence known to the man in my house that if he doesn't lay the floor properly he'll be laying it again *smile again*" and that's when it dawned on me that Steve's size 13's, despite their gargantuan scale, hadn't been the makers of the clomping I'd heard earlier.

OHGOD-OHGOD-OHGOD-OHGOD. I still cringe when I wonder if he lives in the area and shudders as he drives past, Sideshow-Bob-stepping-on-a-rake style for all you Simpsons fans, thinking to himself "That's where that FREAK WOMAN who calls a toilet a toily lives."