Today I am talking about:
My most excruciatingly embarrassing moment
|I can't remember where this was, but it was on an island|
in a river in a French town, where I met my first 'boyfriend'.
He was Michel, and he was 11. I was 8.
This is my brother, me and my Mum.
Thanks to Dad for taking the picture.
Being 8, I was supposed to have helped pack my stuff. But I didn't. Obviously. Instead my Mum packed for me, which was very nice of her. Unfortunately, it wasn't until we were in France that we realised she'd forgotten to pack me any knickers.
|My brother, enjoying the sunshine, and our tent.|
This tent died in Welsh floods about a year later.
In 1982 you couldn't go to the supermarket and buy a pack of 5. No, you had to go to a shop that sold knickers, and discuss your requirements with the shopkeeper.
Sadly my Mum's French was not that awesome. Later in the holiday she would mix up the words bateau and baton, and ask the baker for a boat, much to our hilarity. In our hunt for knickers she was going to get by on minimal French and plenty of pointing.
|Regarde! Nous sommes en France.|
Not sure my French is any better than my Mum's!
Photo of my Dad with my brother and I in a French town.
Photo taken by Mum.
Mum decided to speak slowly and clearly and use more pointing. "Je voudrais... I would like..." pointed at the knickers. Shopkeeper tilted her head to one side. Mum lifted my skirt and showed the shopkeeper, and all the other ladies in the establishment, that I was wearing her fancy Janet Reger knickers. And then, while I was hoping that the ground would open up beneath my feet, she added, emphatically; "s'il vous plait."
We got knickers.
Needless to say, I've never forgotten to pack knickers again. Sporrans are another matter though. Sorry about that.
What about you? What's your most embarrassing moment?
Posts in this series
This post is one of a series I'm doing inspired by Chantelle of Fat Mum Slim's suggestions of 50 things to blog about. If you're interested, here's links to all the ones I've done so far.