Fun Things,  Joy,  Just for Fun,  Out and About,  Parenting

Oh. Em. Gee.

September 30, 2013 /

A few weeks ago, we were grocery shopping in Walmart and ran into one of Bean’s friend’s from school named Sophia. Her mom mentioned that they were getting ready to have a birthday party in a few weeks for Sophia, and that I should be on the look out for the invitation. Great. Looking forward to it. The invitation arrived a few days later, and without really reading the invite, I jotted the date, time, and location down in my planner and never looked back.

So, today was the big day. Sophia’s birthday party. It was at this awesome petting zoo just south of Orlando, and Bean was stoked to go. We’d been there once before for another friend’s party, so we were ready. Except, I wore sandals. To a petting zoo. And I spent the afternoon walking around in chicken, goat, and pig poo in flip flops. But other than that, I was ready.

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We get to the party, and Sophia comes running up to say hello to Bean. Only, her mom calls out to her, “Anna! Don’t run, sweetie!”

Anna.

Anna?

Anna!

This girl’s name wasn’t Sophia! It was Anna! Which wasn’t that big of a deal, except that Bean had just plopped our gift bag on the present table and the card had “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SOPHIA!” written in huge letters across the envelope.

We greeted the other parents, and Bean took off to play with his friends. I made my way over to Chris and whispered to him the discovery about Sophia/Anna. “I have to get the card back,” I whispered.

The gift table was set a little bit aways from the rest of the party, so I very casually strolled over to there and pretended to be interested in all the pretty presents. And when I thought no one was looking, I dug around on the table and found our gift bag, then I reached into the bag and picked out the card. I shoved the card in my purse, and turned around to leave the scene.

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And there stood Anna’s mom not two feet from me, staring right at me with this very confused, very suspicious, very uncomfortable look on her face.

“Umm… Can I help you with something?” she said.

And I froze. I had no idea what to say. I was so embarrassed and flustered, and I made it way worse by saying, “No, thanks!” and then WALKING AWAY.

Why would I do that?!?!? Why hadn’t I told her what had happened?!?!? Why wouldn’t I make up a lie like any other decent person?!?!? Now it totally looked like I had stolen a four-year-old’s birthday present!

And then I made it worse.

We were getting ready to start our petting zoo tour, and so I decided to put my purse in the car so that I didn’t have to carry it around with me all afternoon. But as soon as I got out to the car, I realized that now it probably looked like I had stashed my stolen goods in my car. Well, fabulous.

I decided that the only thing I could do was woo Anna’s parents with my charm and wit so they would know that I wasn’t a psychotic person. So, we’re standing outside the goat pen waiting to go in to pet the goats. Everyone went in except me because I really didn’t want to walk around in a goat pen in flip flops. When all of a sudden, a rogue goat comes flying out of the pen! Apparently, someone left the pen open and this goat was like, “I’m out!” and he took off running…

…STRAIGHT AT ME!

So, I did the only thing you do when a goat escapes from a petting zoo pen and comes running right at you.

I chased him.

All over the zoo.

Flip flops flapping, hair flying all over the place, boobs hanging out of my v-neck tee. I chased that damn goat all over all the while thinking in my head, “If I catch the goat, they’ll know I’m a good person!”

And the whole time I’m chasing the goat, Bean is yelling out over everyone laughing, “GO, MOM! GET HIM! GET HIM!”

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(That black one is my goat…)

Finally, I caught him, but I had no idea what to DO with him. He was too big for me to pick up and he wasn’t wearing a collar or anything. So I had to stand there bear hugging this goat until one of the petting zoo workers caught up with us.

Apparently, there was no end to my embarrassment that day.

I made it through the rest of the birthday party uneventfully, thank goodness. I ducked out to the parking lot for 2 minutes and called my sister for advice. I explained about the birthday card thing and she said I absolutely HAD to go say something to Anna’s mom or else I was going to be “that crazy woman” for the rest of the time our kids were in school together. Which could be quite a while since we live in the same neighborhood.

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As we were eating cake later, I casually strolled up to Anna’s mom and explained that we had two birthday parties this weekend (which was true) and that I had accidentally mixed up the birthday cards and had put the wrong card on Anna’s present (which was not true), so I had grabbed the card back and I wanted her to know that Michael’s present was the one without the card. It was about as awkward of a conversation as you can have with a woman who thinks you stole her daughter’s birthday present.

So, yeah. I’m never leaving my house again. If you need me, I’ll be drowning my embarrassment in ice cream.

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