Embarrassment

The other night I took my 6-year-old to gymnastics. This is the conversation that occurred as we got out of the car.

Lo: Can you drop me off?

Me: Uhm, no because that would not be worth my time. Not to mention who doesn’t want to sit in a dark room mindlessly playing subway surfers while you do gymnastics. No

Lo: Please?

Me: Uhm, no. What would I do?  (Parents – this is always a mistake. Do not engage. I repeat. Do not engage)

Lo: You can go home. You can go anywhere and have fun without me.

So now, it’s ok to go somewhere without her and have fun.

Me: Sorry, but no.

Lo: Please, mom. You’re going to embarrass me.

Pause. What do I even do with that? I can post it to Facebook, but then what? That kiddo has no idea the level of embarrassment that awaits her both planned and unplanned as she gets older.

Fast forward 45 minutes to soccer practice. That same 6-year-old girl and I are chatting with some parents from the team. I mention how my daughter had wished for a sister instead of a brother. My sweet girl proceeds to explain that she didn’t quite believe us when we told her she had a brother. To which she follows up with the statement, “So then my mom and dad showed me my little brother’s penis.”

Hilarity and laughter from the parents, confusion on my daughter’s part and the ground swallowed me whole.

First of all, that’s not how that conversation went down.

Secondly, how is it that I’m the one that goes around embarrassing her?

SMH

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