I am not a Chinese Delegate even though I was for a moment

The day started like any other. She stretched out in bed before donning her new birthday ugg boots and chucking on a jumper. Into the kitchen she went and flicked on her Nespresso machine. Next task was to wake the giant man-boy from his deep slumber.

“Get Up!” she said before flicking on his light.

“JESUS CHRIST MUM!”

“Get up…..”

Throwing herself into the shower, she ticked off the list of things that she had to do. For it was Open Day at the local Primary School to celebrate Education Week, a special week where you got to go into the classrooms, donate books, watch a concert and make cupcakes for a special morning tea. Made those cupcakes she had, the day before, with the help of one Betty Crocker.

Her youngest son came in as she was getting dressed.

“I am on at 9.45am. Are you going to come and watch me do the Dragon Dance?”

She assured him that there was no other place she would rather be.

Later, after the children had gone to their schools, her friend Mrs O’Neill arrived with coffees. Takeaway coffees in takeaway cups. This caused her to have a nasty minor flashback.

After catching up on the local gossip, of which there was none, she grabbed her cupcakes and her handbag and headed up to the revered educational institution that was her local primary school. Handing in the box of shitty cupcakes in of the office, she followed the path around to the outdoor concert area. The band was playing a slightly tortured version of the Star Wars Theme as she took her seat.

A minute or so later, she became acutely aware of the stares from hundreds of people. She looked to the right of her. It took a few moments for the situation to sink in. There sat the deputy principals, the school captains and some delegates from the Chinese Sister school that our school was hosting. A flood on adrenaline swept through her body as she realised she had taken a seat at the front on the gathering in the row reserved for the deputy principals, the school captains and some delegates from the Chinese Sister school that our school was hosting.

And she was wearing her NASTY WOMAN t-shirt.

Horrified, she fled. She ran to the back of the audience, who were all still staring at her, and took a seat near the eco-garden. She texted her friend Mrs. O’Neill.

She sat through the concert, mortified. There was the junior choir, the senior choir, the junior band, the senior band, THE RECORDER TROUP and of course the Dragon Dance. Afterwards the crowd began to disperse when on of the school Mums approached her laughing.

“Did you realised you mouthed the word FUCK when you realised you were sitting in the VIP area?”

She did not. And that she was me. And that’s how Education Week went down in 2017. And I will leave the house again. Except to get my Tupperware Container back.

What is something mortifying that has happened to you?

 

 

 

  • Dani

    I did the same thing with the guest speakers at my first ever bloggers conference. Most of the table were quite gracious with my error, but not all!

  • Kel

    Just this morning actually. I had to use a sock for toilet paper after my bowels unleashed holy hell at the gym. I may need to find a new gym.

  • Shazziebazzie

    Organised a medical education meeting with a group of doctors and made name tags for them to wear. One of the doctors was named Virginia. I accidently left out the last i in her name.

  • Rejeanne Rochon

    I worked alone in an office, a small office and I felt a gas come on and let it go. No one ever came to my office mornings. And just as the scent was lifting up to my nostrils the door opened and in came the Fedex guy. He went “whew, stinks in here”, dropped the envelope and then he laughed and left. Never did that again!

  • Lisa

    Nearly wee-ed myself.

  • Cate Lawrence

    hiliarious!