Last year I was dating this super gorgeous, majorly hunky, good-at-every-sport, funny-at-all-the-right-moments guy. On our first date I asked him what his most embarrassing moment was. He said he didn't really have any embarrassing moments. That should have been a red flag for me. I proceeded to tell him mine (I might have had a teeny tiny bit of too much wine), which I won't put on the world wide web. He thought it was hilarious. But as time went on, I knew he was one of "those" people.
One of those annoyingly cool people. They never trip. They never snort at something hilarious and lose a booger. They try a new sport and pick it right up. They don't accidentally knock anything off the counter...ever. They're just cool. Cool as a flippin' cucumber.
I always wanted to be that cool. I strove for a cool factor. My friends were cool. My clothes were pretty cool. To tell you the truth, my mind is very cool. But my actions? My bodily functions? My coordination? NOT COOL.
Lately I have been recording my awkward moments. Of the ones I notice, I'm making a note weekly.
Most recently, I had an AM (awkward moment) at Jackson's doctor's office. There's a cute guy that works there and he's starting to know us by name (catching up on immunizations:yes, I'm that kind of mom). While I was waiting, I struck up a conversation with him. We chatted for a good 10 minutes with me standing at the counter and him sitting about 40 inches in front of me. Lah-tee-dah, nice n' easy conversation. Jackson and I leave the office, drive to the gas station and enter the car wash. I check myself out in the mirror and see this reflection:
Look closely at my nose. That is a round spot of dried coffee. Trust me, the picture doesn't do it justice.
That's right. I was chatting it up with the doctor's office cutie with that on my nose.
So here's to being awkward. I'm embracing it. Heck, cool is obviously not in my future.