On my hike down memory lane, I stumbled across this gem………
Toilet Paper: Tale of a Tail!
Living with my daughter, Laura, after she adopted me following my double whammy of losing my husband and my son within five months of each other. And NO, it wasn’t because I was extra careless and couldn’t find them one day. (Something Laura used to say)
Suffice it to say I was left floundering a bit after my husband died from cancer, and then five months later, my eldest son, Sean, drove into a tree, possibly because of an epileptic fit.
Anyway, as it happened, Laura lifted her wing and let me huddle there. I don’t think at the time, she understood just how long that huddle would be.
Seventeen years later… the feathers were getting a little bedraggled, but I was still there, huddled and happy.
Now I defy anyone who lives near another to say they never fight nor argue, and life is always rainbows and unicorns. No, there is a point when all that sugar crystallizes and becomes hardened and full of ants.
Well, that happened to us. The day came when I wanted to go shopping, but she didn’t. I was ready and waiting, but she wanted to finish her book. Eventually, I lost my patience, I figured I didn’t need her after all.
One more trip to the loo, and off I strode in high dudgeon, back straight, head high, and nose in the air. Sort of ‘look at me, I don’t need you’ attitude.
We were living in a cul-de-sac just behind Bayside Shopping Centre, so it wasn’t a long walk, I greeted those I met with a courteous nod and continued on, regal and elegant, as my mother had taught me. Coming to the centre, I wandered around for a while doing a spot of window shopping, but not really enjoying myself.
Eventually, I noticed Laura had decided to join me and was sitting having a cup of coffee, waiting for me. Huh, so what? I was still annoyed with her, thus ignoring her, I went to the counter to order my own.
By this time, I think Laura must have been bursting with restrained giggles, but felt she had to somehow rescue her mother’s dignity. She tapped me on the shoulder, and said quietly,
“Um, Mom… you’ve got toilet paper hanging out of your jeans.”
Horrified and mortified, I sat down hurriedly.
High dudgeon has gone, low dudgeon in place.
That was the apex of my embarrassment chart, until one day I saw a video of a very famous person with the same problem. Only in his case, it was to take 1st place on a podium.
My embarrassment seemed somewhat insignificant after that.