I am a klutzy, klutzy girl. Anyone that knows me even moderately well knows this to be true. I struggle to be balanced standing on two feet, I spill more than my kids and I am certain that my insurance company has someone on special assignment to follow me around and move objects out of the way. I like to think that it is charming and adds a little something special to my personality, at least that’s what I tell myself every time I trip on a flat surface, break something or have a wardrobe malfunction. I cannot even recall how many glasses I have broken, but my husband was savvy enough to buy me plastic wine goblets for Mother’s Day this year.
Talk about a fantastic gift, yesterday after trying to balance the goblet in between my thighs by the stem I had some kind of spasm which had me covered in Merlot and sent my plastic goblet bouncing halfway down the sidewalk. Now for some odd reason a glass of wine later I tried the same maneuver and had the same outcome. At that point I decided I was keeping the shirt on until bed time, as I was not going to have a third shirt drenched with red wine in less than 60 minutes. This is the story of my life, and it is quite amazing that I am not hospitalized on a regular basis. I generally just wind up with extra laundry and some bruises that I can’t explain. However, I have had numerous wardrobe catastrophes that are fun to share.
One morning on the way to the office I realized I was very low on gas and swung into a very busy gas station, off a very busy road during rush hour. I have to admit I looked really good that day; I was wearing a suit and heels for a meeting. It was a cold morning and as I was pumping gas it seemed to get even colder. I noticed several people giving me the once over and remember thinking I must really look great today, however the last guy to give me the once over started to laugh as he walked by. Looking down I realized why it seemed so cold suddenly, somehow the elastic in my hose had given out and the black hose I was wearing were now completely around my ankles. What to do? For some odd reason I bent over and pulled them back up instead of taking them off and throwing them away. Let me add that this was before pay at the pump and I actually had to go inside to pay for my gas. Holding my hose up to my waist I shimmied into the gas station, paid for my gas and shimmied back out. I avoided that gas station for quite some time.
Another suit and heels day on my way to yet another meeting, I stopped by the bathroom so I could survive a two hour meeting. As I was flushing I noticed a flurry or string and I realized that somehow the thread from the seam of my skirt had gone into the toilet and since restroom toilets flush at about 1,000 RPM I was watching my hem unravel down the toilet. I suddenly grabbed the string (without thinking) and started pulling it back and then realized, what am I going to do with the string once I pull it out of the toilet that I just peed in? It’s not like I have a sewing machine (or the skills) to repair an entire hem. ABORT! I started reverse reeling and when the toilet was done flushing I looked down to see my knee length skirt about 5 inches longer where my hem completely hung down. To get through the day I found some packing tape and tapped it back up and as I walked around the office the rest of the day I made a scrunch -scrunch sound with every step. I kept looking around and saying out loud, “I wonder what that noise is?” so people would not think it was me.
I think we have all had one of those days where we just want to look sexy; we need to feel like we still got it, even if we don’t. On one of those days, I elected to wear a wrap dress to work. Now, I really should know better with my history but the stubborn part of me said, “What can happen, it’s just a dress and you are going to work, not out dancing. You will be just fine!” Of course, the common sense part of me was on vacation or a bender somewhere, so I just went with the stubborn me. I have a habit of carrying too many things in the morning; purse, lunch sack, attaché, coffee and bottled water (not a good idea for a clumsy girl). Somehow my lunch bag rubbed against the tie part of the dress forcing it to untie, I didn’t even make it across the parking lot without the dress coming untied and offering up a peep show to any passerby. And of course I had no clue until the female security guard nodded towards my chest as I cleared the entrance.
I have this bit of optimism that my clumsiness will one day vanish and I will be full of grace. The common sense part of me tells me I am full of something for thinking that, but I am a glass half full kind of girl and I will hold onto that tiny glimmer of hope. Besides, being clumsy isn’t so bad, makes you fun to watch and gives you some great stories to share.