An average afternoon, pre-Fourth-of-July, and my mother and I were power-walking through Wal-Mart, searching for blue cups to match the color scheme of the weekend. (Not to be found, by the way. What's up with that?) In the midst of calculating the advantages and disadvantages of buying Tropicana lemonade over Great Value lemonade, and the cooing over the patriotic star-shaped ice cube trays, we stopped in the drink aisle. The one with racks of soda towering over you on one side and water bottles piled up on the other.
All I wanted was cream soda. All I wanted. However, wouldn't ya know, the only rack going empty in the entire aisle was that one. A single bottle lay at the very back, just out of reach. Nevertheless, I was undaunted. I wanted that cream soda. No other would do. I stretched and stretched, up on tip-toes. My fingers brushed the cap, and in that moment of frustration, I said...
"Come on, little buddy, come to me..."
It was at this time that I realized something I'd completely forgotten in my quest for cream soda: other people go to the drink aisle, too. A man stood with his cart full of cat food and an amused expression directly behind me. At that moment, I abandoned my mission quickly and gladly, not wanting to know who else, exactly, had witnessed this. I grabbed some Pepsi and beat it - back to my mom, and far, far away from the man and his cat food.
Fortuanately, I have a mother who laughs. With me, not at me.
Doesn't everyone do stuff like this? Even if you have no one to chuckle with in the moment of flushing, it sure makes a good story for those around you.