That works great for my children; but who calms me when I spill?
Although I have been known to spill at a party or on a romantic date with The Husband, I usually spill when I am by myself. The kids are at school, and I am at my favorite local burger place buying a milkshake or a soda. There I am enjoying my drink, acting like it is my God-given right to merrily imbibe of some refreshment.
But, THEN, I will, inevitably and for no reason whatsoever, spill. When I was a flight attendant and happened to spill, I could blame it on turbulence. “Oh, ha ha, a patch of rough air! That is why I spilled!” When I lived in California, I could shift the blame to the local trouble-maker: earthquakes. “Did you feel that tremor just now? No? I’ll bet it was about a 3.2—you might not be sensitive enough like me to have felt it, although it did make me spill my drink.”
I know what you’re thinking: Everybody spills. But does everybody spill where I do?
I don’t always spill right on my boobs. No. Not always:
It is like the specific drink I am drinking—coffee, soda, red wine, whatever—is magnetically attracted to certain areas of my body. Normal people might spill on their shoe. If it were me, I wouldn’t really care if I spilled on my shoe, because it is most likely a brown or black shoe. And does anybody look down at my shoes? Never. And if they did, and if I had happened to spill on my shoe, I could pass it off like I stepped in an especially splashy and festive puddle.
My propensity for geographically unacceptable spills typically occurs when I am on my way to a job interview or to meet a new acquaintance/ friend for lunch, someone I don’t know very well and would most likely try to impress with my fabulous sense of humor and my off-the-charts intelligence. The spillage will not choose to happen when I have half an hour of extra time to go home and change; it of course will happen when I am running 10 minutes late and forgot to charge my cell phone.Sometimes, I do not spill on my body. Sometimes I spill on my face.
When this happens, I am unaware. I go about my business, thinking that I got that tiny drop off my face with a napkin and then 12 hours later I see myself in a mirror and realize that everyone on the street all day must have thought I had a very unfortunate birth mark.Fast forward to now: I do meet my friend for lunch. She does not make any comment about the spill, which leads me to believe she is a better friend than I thought. Why was I so worried about something like that? What is my problem? Why am I so self-conscious?
I get up to leave after lunch, and to my chagrin I realize I had sat down in something sticky. Someone else must’ve spilled something on that chair before I sat there. At first I am upset: did anything get on me? Then I exhale a deep sigh of relief because I am wearing jeans. Even if I got a little bit of whatever was on that chair on me, no one will notice.MOV