Do you know the idiom…’To put one’s foot in one’s mouth’? I know it very well.
I was reminded of this experience earlier today. I still think I am a teenager in some ways. This happened when I was about 28. Three years ago, I still feel a bit squirmish thinking about it.
I was visiting my grandparents for the holidays and I was doing my usual thing in the kitchen… eating. The kitchen is connected to my grandfather’s office where he sits his clients down and they often sit there for a long time. If you are in the kitchen you need to walk through the office to go to the rest of the house. Not too much trouble, except when you are me.
I heard my grandpa’s voice and then I heard a young attractive voice and I quickly glimpsed outside to see a really attractive man walking towards to the office. I wanted to bolt out the kitchen to get to the rest of the house to avoid any greeting but alas, I was too slow. I stood with my arms stretched out ready to run with my one leg in the air. In my eyes, I sprinted for the corner of the room… in reality, I hopped. I have no idea why I was so shy. Extremely shy and now out of breath as well… from sprinting of course.
There I was standing in the kitchen waiting for their conversation to end… after about 5 minutes of standing perfectly silent and out of sight. I realised that they were going to talk for hours! I needed to move to the other side of the house. I obviously had better things to do than to stand around, like napping. I convinced myself to just walk in. Introduce myself and walk out, casually, professionally, flawlessly… So I did just that… or something along that line.
I walked into the room, made eye contact and said: “Hello, I am Zani, Uncle Dries’ grandson” Casually… Professionally… Flawlessly.
Yes… I said … grandson (I am obviously his granddaughter). He immediately laughed out loud and me too, well I think the noise I made was laughter. We all made some noises together… haha ha ha ha ha ha. I left the room blushing. My gran and I laughed our heads off in the other part of the house. I found out later he was married with children. No loss.
The story is not over…
Two years later, I am visiting my grandparents again. It is harvest time, there are enormous harvesting tractors on the fields and I am very interested to go riding in a tractor, to see … stuff.
After some miscommunication with my grandpa, I park the car on the wrong side of the field so I needed to walk about half a mile to get to the tractor. I see the outline of a young attractive male in the driver seat. I know I look good today, with my flowery skirt, washed hair and yesterday’s makeup. I walk in the dust of the new harvested fields, wind blowing through my hair, the sun on my face and dust getting into my nose. I am happy and I climb up the ladder to the door… Casually… Professionally… Flawlessly. It opens…
“Hey… its uncle Dries’ grandson.”
We had a laugh and I soon went home laughing at myself. Just another day in my life.