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la_rainetteIn honour of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sir_gareth, who asked me what my most embarrassing moment in life had been so far.
Well.
Tough one.
So I am a French woman in exile in Canada. I kiss cheeses in grocery stores. I open apple juice cans with can openers. The first time tried to shift gears to slow down on my automatic car, I hit the brakes too hard and got the seatbelt bruised into my ribs for an entire week. I once stopped in the middle of a crossing because I had absent-mindedly driven up to the traffic light (that's what we do in France). I do the orgasmic food dance too, given half a chance.
Is that embarrassing enough? Hum, not quite. OK, let's follow another path then...
I am a mom.
I carry a ludicrous Barbie backpack with a Big Blue Potty in it. I have been seen crossing a parking lot full of bemused customs officers, holding said potty (full) and looking for the washrooms (and then collapsing in helpless laughter against the door). I have been barfed on (in public). I have tended to screaming, red-faced monsters during their worst tantrums. I have slipped and landed on my bum in a puddle of Tadpolish pee.
Is that enough?
Hum. Let's combine both then.
OK, picture this: la rainette is going to Canada. With Husband, happy, bouncy Froglet, Tadpole (who was still an infant) in a carrier and the cat ditto. And a mountain of assorted luggage.
People in the line up for security were eyeing us fearfully and praying for us to take a plane, any plane, that was not theirs. Some of them would have been ready to bribe a stewardess to ensure that. Others looked ready to lock us up in the washroom, or buy us champagne, or buy the whole plane, anything, anything to make sure we wouldn't travel with them.
The security officers asked to see the contents of my purse; I was busy getting Tadpole back into her carrier without letting go of the frantic cat (carriers and contents had to travel through security separately), and waved them on.
Now, I love my purse. I got it as a present, and it was obviously chosen with care, just for me: it is roomy, and I always carry a lot of stuff. It has a number of smaller pockets (to carry as much junk as you want) and I like carrying junk. My purse weighs more than my cat. It even contained a hammer at some point (I don't remember how it landed in there, but I tend not to empty my purse often. So it stayed there for a while). The officer started emptying my purse, and out came the various things I was keeping in there. A pen. Specific items for female hygiene. Lots and lots of assorted papers. Aspirin. The cat's health book. A plastic spoon.
And one, single, lonesome, dirty black sock.
One of husband's dirty socks, that hadn't quite made it into our suitcase in the morning, and had therefore been casually thrown into my purse instead of staying behind, sad and discarded. By the look on the officer's face I was starting to regret having bothered with taking it at all.
So: Picture me now, with my cat and my baby and all the future passengers nearby watching on with growing dread, and picture the horrified security officer's face as he holds up the sock and it dangles sadly in front of his face.
I am still laughing today.
As a matter of fact, I was looking for The Most Embarrassing Moment in my life a few days ago, as Husband was taking the entire family to the McMichael Gallery (a very serious Art Gallery that has lots of paintings by Tom Thompson and the Group of Seven) when I remembered this incident and told my mom, and we were both totally cracked up already when we arrived at the gallery. Where we were met by a giant indian, complete with headpiece that reached down to his calves, and two guys wearing only skimpy loincloths. As Mom and I cracked up again, a young lady with a camera approached me and asked if she could interview me, I said yes, and she asked what I thought of all that.
And as I realized that the giant indian was in fact a tall drag squaw, complete with impeccable makeup and platform shoes, all I could come up with was a very dimwitted: "It's very funny" before snorting loudly in the most undignified way.
So.
Froglet, Tadpole and I have now had our fifteen minutes each. Froglet on a beautiful picture in the newspaper. Me as the local nitwit (I do not want to know where and when they will show this thing). And Tadpole, on TV after the Easter Parade in Toronto two years ago, when the camera caught her unfortunate attempts to scratch her brains out through her left nostril (her index finger was burried in her nose up to the second knuckle).
I wonder what Husband will come up with when it's his turn.
In other news, we've been to the royal Ontario Museum today and the kids had a blast.
I found a book called A Frog's Life, written in the form of a frog's journal. It said:
I don't do anything much except eat during the long summer days. I am on a "see-food" diet: I see food, I eat it! Otherwise I just sit around and relax. Other animals are busy, always rushing, always doing things. It makes me tired just to watch them
Yeah, baby.
We saw the python's squeletton:
la rainette: See? lots of ribs.
Mamie Heidi: Yeah. It's not a millipede, it's a millirib.
Froglet: I drew three snow whites, see?
Mamie Heidi: Oh, good. What about the dwarves?
Froglet: I don't want to draw them.
la rainette: Well, she's got a point, you know. I mean, that's twenty-one dwarves altogether.
Froglet: I want my drawing up on that wall.
la rainette: well, that's for drawings of endangered animals, see? I don't think Snow White is endangered, much. Especially if there are three of them.
So she drew a bunnyrabbit (but shhhhh, no one knows it's a bunny rabbit) that looked sufficiently neutral to earn a place on the Endangered Species wall. (4 legs, 2 ears, brown, could be any four-legged animal, really)
We were tired, and very silly. Still am tired, BTW. And silly.
Also? I love you guys. :D
*is still happy with the world*
sir_gareth, who asked me what my most embarrassing moment in life had been so far.Well.
Tough one.
So I am a French woman in exile in Canada. I kiss cheeses in grocery stores. I open apple juice cans with can openers. The first time tried to shift gears to slow down on my automatic car, I hit the brakes too hard and got the seatbelt bruised into my ribs for an entire week. I once stopped in the middle of a crossing because I had absent-mindedly driven up to the traffic light (that's what we do in France). I do the orgasmic food dance too, given half a chance.
Is that embarrassing enough? Hum, not quite. OK, let's follow another path then...
I am a mom.
I carry a ludicrous Barbie backpack with a Big Blue Potty in it. I have been seen crossing a parking lot full of bemused customs officers, holding said potty (full) and looking for the washrooms (and then collapsing in helpless laughter against the door). I have been barfed on (in public). I have tended to screaming, red-faced monsters during their worst tantrums. I have slipped and landed on my bum in a puddle of Tadpolish pee.
Is that enough?
Hum. Let's combine both then.
OK, picture this: la rainette is going to Canada. With Husband, happy, bouncy Froglet, Tadpole (who was still an infant) in a carrier and the cat ditto. And a mountain of assorted luggage.
People in the line up for security were eyeing us fearfully and praying for us to take a plane, any plane, that was not theirs. Some of them would have been ready to bribe a stewardess to ensure that. Others looked ready to lock us up in the washroom, or buy us champagne, or buy the whole plane, anything, anything to make sure we wouldn't travel with them.
The security officers asked to see the contents of my purse; I was busy getting Tadpole back into her carrier without letting go of the frantic cat (carriers and contents had to travel through security separately), and waved them on.
Now, I love my purse. I got it as a present, and it was obviously chosen with care, just for me: it is roomy, and I always carry a lot of stuff. It has a number of smaller pockets (to carry as much junk as you want) and I like carrying junk. My purse weighs more than my cat. It even contained a hammer at some point (I don't remember how it landed in there, but I tend not to empty my purse often. So it stayed there for a while). The officer started emptying my purse, and out came the various things I was keeping in there. A pen. Specific items for female hygiene. Lots and lots of assorted papers. Aspirin. The cat's health book. A plastic spoon.
And one, single, lonesome, dirty black sock.
One of husband's dirty socks, that hadn't quite made it into our suitcase in the morning, and had therefore been casually thrown into my purse instead of staying behind, sad and discarded. By the look on the officer's face I was starting to regret having bothered with taking it at all.
So: Picture me now, with my cat and my baby and all the future passengers nearby watching on with growing dread, and picture the horrified security officer's face as he holds up the sock and it dangles sadly in front of his face.
I am still laughing today.
As a matter of fact, I was looking for The Most Embarrassing Moment in my life a few days ago, as Husband was taking the entire family to the McMichael Gallery (a very serious Art Gallery that has lots of paintings by Tom Thompson and the Group of Seven) when I remembered this incident and told my mom, and we were both totally cracked up already when we arrived at the gallery. Where we were met by a giant indian, complete with headpiece that reached down to his calves, and two guys wearing only skimpy loincloths. As Mom and I cracked up again, a young lady with a camera approached me and asked if she could interview me, I said yes, and she asked what I thought of all that.
And as I realized that the giant indian was in fact a tall drag squaw, complete with impeccable makeup and platform shoes, all I could come up with was a very dimwitted: "It's very funny" before snorting loudly in the most undignified way.
So.
Froglet, Tadpole and I have now had our fifteen minutes each. Froglet on a beautiful picture in the newspaper. Me as the local nitwit (I do not want to know where and when they will show this thing). And Tadpole, on TV after the Easter Parade in Toronto two years ago, when the camera caught her unfortunate attempts to scratch her brains out through her left nostril (her index finger was burried in her nose up to the second knuckle).
I wonder what Husband will come up with when it's his turn.
In other news, we've been to the royal Ontario Museum today and the kids had a blast.
I found a book called A Frog's Life, written in the form of a frog's journal. It said:
I don't do anything much except eat during the long summer days. I am on a "see-food" diet: I see food, I eat it! Otherwise I just sit around and relax. Other animals are busy, always rushing, always doing things. It makes me tired just to watch them
Yeah, baby.
We saw the python's squeletton:
la rainette: See? lots of ribs.
Mamie Heidi: Yeah. It's not a millipede, it's a millirib.
Froglet: I drew three snow whites, see?
Mamie Heidi: Oh, good. What about the dwarves?
Froglet: I don't want to draw them.
la rainette: Well, she's got a point, you know. I mean, that's twenty-one dwarves altogether.
Froglet: I want my drawing up on that wall.
la rainette: well, that's for drawings of endangered animals, see? I don't think Snow White is endangered, much. Especially if there are three of them.
So she drew a bunnyrabbit (but shhhhh, no one knows it's a bunny rabbit) that looked sufficiently neutral to earn a place on the Endangered Species wall. (4 legs, 2 ears, brown, could be any four-legged animal, really)
We were tired, and very silly. Still am tired, BTW. And silly.
Also? I love you guys. :D
*is still happy with the world*
