There must be a light under the bushel!

On a lighter note...

I really had to get past some of the humiliation and embarrassment of this event before I could properly put it into words. Here goes one of my most embarrassing moments...

I went to the company picnic with the Salvos. Mike works for an insurance company, and Karen Beth has been trying to get me to go along on company picnic day for the past couple of years. This year, it worked out, much to my chagrin.

They've got a pretty cool setup at the picnic, with bingo, horse shoes, a scavenger hunt, and games for the kids.

The most tempting activity loomed in the form of a Moonwalk, one of those inflatable jumping contraptions. Karen Beth and I are not much more than children ourselves when you get right down to it, and although I absolutely do not mind making an ass out of myself in front of people I know, I was going to maintain some dignity in front of those strangers (Mike's coworkers). I don't know why I feel better acting like in idiot around people who will see me again rather than people I don't know, but I'm digressing here.

So, K.B. is bugging me the whole day to get in this oversized jumping bag with her. I lifted a brow at her and said, "I'm sure they have a weight limit to keep people like us out of there." So, in typical K.B. fashion, she marches up and checks...nope, no weight limit listed on the rules.

At last, our chance arrives...all the adults went inside for dinner. She drags me alongs promising that no one will see us...this will be sooooo much fun!

We take off our shoes and climb in, a little shaky-like probably because our center of gravity has grown in our adult years and has caused a terrible imbalance on uneven surfaces!

Anyway, K.B. and I immediately start jumping right by each other's feet trying to knock the other over. On one of my attempts, she's throwing me off with her arm as I'm in mid-jump right by her feet, and there I go...right into the net side. The problem is, I don't just bounce back...no I go ass-first into that net, so that net didn't stand a chance. The world starts titling until my ass is touching hard ground. I had fallen in the crack.

This gets so much worse.

I try to crawl out, but my center of gravity has taken up new residence in that suction cup. I'm struggling to get my feet out of the air and my ass back into the game when this hissing noise begins. Oh shit...we've deflated the Moonwalk.

The few lingering people outside come running over to get us out. Apparently you can suffocate if one of those things collapses on you. K.B. is laughing so hard that she can't get up. I crawl to the door, and a cute twenty-something year-old who was running one of the other activities is waiting for me. He smiles with a head tilt and asks, "What did you two do?" My immediate response was a face-burning, sheepish, "Nothing!" Some of the others had to help K.B. get out.

By the time I look around, the crowd has grown. The kid-attendant working the Monnwalk went in to get help. We were assured it was no big deal; the duct tape holding the air hose had come undone, so they were able to inflate it right back up.

Two men were standing nearby whispering and giving us dirty looks, no doubt bitching about adults trying to steal the kids' fun by ruining their toys.

At this point, we're both giggling uncontrollably, and then I look up at the rule list (the one we didn't read before we got in). We broke seven of the nine rules, things like "Do not jump closer than 5 feet from another person" and "Do not jump into the nets on the sides" and "No wrestling." Oops...

We told K.B.'s kids what we had done. Stephanie looks at us with wonder, "No way! Y'all really did that?" Making a spectacle of herself is not high on her list of fun things to do. Zach--"That's cool...I can't believe I missed it." Then we got to K.B.'s husband---a calm headshake and then, "I can't take you two anywhere." I think that stared us snickering all over again!