Low Point
I have an embarrassing life. Everyone knows this. However, yesterday I reached an all-time low point. I will explain now.
For my job, I get to do home visits with little kids. I go see them at their homes or foster homes, whichever the case may be. I try to coerce them into showing me their skills-speech/language, motor, and cognitive. I play on the floor with them. It’s a great job.
Yesterday I had a late afternoon home visit. Before the visit I was home reading a book because the utility man had to come change out some thingy-ma-doodle on our hot water heater-ma-bopper (technical terms, you wouldn't understand). He finished his work and I proceeded to my home visit.
I got out of my car, where the foster mother met me at the door and stated that the little kiddo I was meant to see had been throwing up earlier in the day, but it seemed to have passed. Her question to me was “Will it gross you out if she throws up on you?” A question I've been asked many times in my line of work. To which I replied “Not at all. I've been thrown up on more times than I can count.”--this is not going where you thinks it's going, I promise. Foster mom then followed me into the house and proceeded to give me strange looks throughout the forty-five minute home visit. I finished up, said good-bye, and walked to my car—vomit free.
Then, I saw it. Lying on the ground beside my car. A small bit of cloth. Hmmm…wonder where that came from? I picked it up, only to realize that it is mine and had apparently fallen off when I got out of the car. As I bent to pick it up, I caught my reflection in the car window. Oh, no...oh, please, no. There it was, hanging out of the back of my jacket. An errant piece of laundry. A wayward bit of silk, sent from the pit to ensure that I never get too cocky.
I sat in this woman’s living room for 45 minutes with delicates clinging to my back, which I must have picked up at home while waiting for Utility Man to change our mcdoodlebopper. How utterly and completely humiliating.
Bet you feel better about your life now.
For my job, I get to do home visits with little kids. I go see them at their homes or foster homes, whichever the case may be. I try to coerce them into showing me their skills-speech/language, motor, and cognitive. I play on the floor with them. It’s a great job.
Yesterday I had a late afternoon home visit. Before the visit I was home reading a book because the utility man had to come change out some thingy-ma-doodle on our hot water heater-ma-bopper (technical terms, you wouldn't understand). He finished his work and I proceeded to my home visit.
I got out of my car, where the foster mother met me at the door and stated that the little kiddo I was meant to see had been throwing up earlier in the day, but it seemed to have passed. Her question to me was “Will it gross you out if she throws up on you?” A question I've been asked many times in my line of work. To which I replied “Not at all. I've been thrown up on more times than I can count.”--this is not going where you thinks it's going, I promise. Foster mom then followed me into the house and proceeded to give me strange looks throughout the forty-five minute home visit. I finished up, said good-bye, and walked to my car—vomit free.
Then, I saw it. Lying on the ground beside my car. A small bit of cloth. Hmmm…wonder where that came from? I picked it up, only to realize that it is mine and had apparently fallen off when I got out of the car. As I bent to pick it up, I caught my reflection in the car window. Oh, no...oh, please, no. There it was, hanging out of the back of my jacket. An errant piece of laundry. A wayward bit of silk, sent from the pit to ensure that I never get too cocky.
I sat in this woman’s living room for 45 minutes with delicates clinging to my back, which I must have picked up at home while waiting for Utility Man to change our mcdoodlebopper. How utterly and completely humiliating.
Bet you feel better about your life now.
Oh my gosh, this kills me. I'm sitting here laughing. Those around me think I'm crazy now.
ReplyDeleteThat made me laugh out loud. Chad just looked over at me and asked what was up.
ReplyDeleteThat's classic! I can't believe she didn't say anything. I couldn't just sit there and pretend like that.
ReplyDelete