Mert at Almost Somewhat Positive had a Dorkiest Moment Contest that I missed but I dug through the journals to bring you this entry that would have qualified from July 24, 2002:
It was a hot summer day so I decided to take the kids to the park. They picked The Valley of the Moon Park--a giant three-story rocketship, open spaces, a nearby creek--this park has it all.
They had lots of muddy fun down by the banks of the stream, floating sticks and leaves and plunking rocks into the current. When they were done (they weren't done but I was) they were filthy from the elbows down to the tips of their fingers and from the waist to the ends of their toes, so when we got to the van I stripped David (age 3) down to just his shirt so he could sit in his car seat without muddying the seat. He didn't mind too much, the warm fuzzy upholstery on his tiny hiney felt pretty good compared to the wet muddy pants and underwear he'd been wearing--they'd begun to chaff a bit. I loaded everyone up, including baby Lillian in her car seat, jumped in the driver's seat and made the jump to warp speed.
It was a 20 minute drive home and while zooming along the highway I realized I needed to stop at Carrs grocery on Huffman to pick up an ingredient for dinner. I was in a bit of a hurry when I pulled into the parking lot and was thrilled to find a spot by the door. I grabbed Lillian in the car carrier, the kids piled out the other side and followed me into the store like little baby ducks in a row.
I made good time, grabbed what I needed and was headed to check out when I got a fair distance ahead of the kids and looked back to make sure they were still behind me. They were there all right. Grace, Spencer and my lovely little David--naked from the waist down. I realized in horror that I'd forgot to put his pants back on and he'd been following me obediently through the store in his shirt and bare feet enjoying the breeze and his new-found freedom.
There he was in Carrs--and the nice Carrs mind you, not the downtown Creepy Carrs--sporting the Donald Duck look. Half-naked. And that half being the most important half. Come to think of it, I had noticed a few strange looks people had thrown my way during my brief excursion through the store, but then with four children I get that a lot and hadn’t thought much about it. So I then faced the ultimate dilemma: Do I go back for his pants? Or do I check out since I’m practically there?
I opted for the "you might as well finish what's too late to fix" plan and ignored the raised eyebrows of the cashier as she wondered what kind of a white trash mom I must have been to take my son out naked in public. I should have come up with a great one-liner like "We're potty training and this is the punishment for accidents" or "We don't have enough pants to go around so the kids take turns wearing what we've got."
Go ahead, call social services, I dare you.
Technorati tags: Anchorage, Alaska, motherhood, parenting