Was My Face Red! Wednesday

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Welcome to Was My Face Red! Wednesday! Most of us have, at one time or another, done something so humiliating, that we wished the floor would open up and consume us. Let's swallow our pride and share those moments with others! Our shame was not in vain, if it can put a smile on someone face! You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine...

  Everyone is welcome to participate. Just leave the link to your WMFR post below.

 This tale of humiliation takes place, way back when Renni was in kindergarten. I had recently re-married and my husband, Renni's step-dad, was stationed in Fort Bragg, NC. He and I were madly in love (what the hell happened to that? LOL) and couldn't get enough of each other. At the time, we just did not have the funds to relocate, and were on the waiting list for military housing. This meant that, at times, we might have to go several weeks without seeing each other.

 Now, this was back in the days before unlimited long distance and Internet in every home. So, the most affordable way of keeping in touch was writing. I would pour my heart and soul into letters to my husband. Some of them might be 10-12 pages long (imagine that! {snort}) Some of these letters got pretty steamy. Hey! When your man is miles away, in a town with hookers on every corner, you've got to keep his mind on you...

 One night, I sat up till the wee hours of the morning, writing such a letter. When I finished, I couldn't find an envelope, so I just folded it in thirds and placed it on an end table. One can do stuff like that, when the kids are too small to read big words. I think I might have overslept the next day. At any rate, I do recall that there was a mad rush to get Renni and Cota ready, then get them to school and the babysitters, and still get myself to work on time.

 That afternoon, when Renni got off the bus, she announced to me, "Ms. XX read the note and said she doesn't need it." Half listening, I was like, "Oh really? That's nice." It wasn't until later, when I went to get "the letter" from the end table and found it was missing, that the full effect of what she had said hit me.

"Renni! What note did Miss XX read?!"

Innocently she replied, "The note I gave her."

"I know it was the note you gave her, but which note?

"The one from there." She pointed to the end table.

 I swear, just like in the movies, my head started to spin, and I heard that EEEK! EEEK! EEEK! EEEK!  that always accompanies the, hockey mask clad, psycho killer.

"Renni, did she give the note back to you?"

Renni nodded and went to retrieve it from her bag. She returned quickly, smiling as she handed it to me, like it was  Citizen of the Week award or something. Damn! There was a bright yellow post it stuck to it, with a note scrawled in red pen. Red ink from a teacher is NEVER good. With dread, I read the note...

Dear Mrs. XX,

I don't think this was meant for my eyes.

Sincerely,

Miss XX

 And at the bottom, she had drawn a smiley face. Maybe I imagined it, but the smiley appeared to be winking.

 Visions of my 12 page, horniness inspired, dirty word filled, masterpiece, being passed around the teachers lounge and being photo copied by dozens of giggling women, filled my head. "Renni, do not ever take a note from home, unless Mama gives it to you!"

  Needless to say, the next face to face conversation with the teacher was uncomfortable. The red color that filled both our cheeks was unmistakable.

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