It’s just a dumb joke that works if one answers only the question implicit in the thread title and ignores the body of the OP.
HAAAA!
Some jokes lose humor when you have to explain them. Not this one! 
Pretty funny, Uncle!
What were we talking about? Oh yeah. Embarassing moments… :smack:
Back in 1984 when I was 14 my parents were running a fireworks stand. A friend and I were discussing something where I needed to contact my mother. He suggested that I call my mom at the fireworks stand (keep in mind this was in the days before cell phones). I got as far as picking up the phone and getting ready to dial as I had to stop and think of what number I would need to call to reach my mom at the fireworks stand. :smack: God, what an idiot I thought I was!
Also fireworks-related, same year, too: We had a box of assorted fireworks, including the ones we’re not supposed to light off in this state (no, my parents were not selling these kinds). Standing before the box, I was lighting a firecracker and getting ready to throw it. As I threw it I didn’t see that it had slipped out of my hand and landed in the box of fireworks! You can only imagine how spectacular this sight must have been, even though it was daytime (not to mention very noisy). Bottle rockets were flying everywhere and it’s a damn miracle I didn’t set any of the adjoining tinderbox-dry fields surrounding us ablaze. Thanks to having a hose close by we managed to extinguish the fireworks before too much more damage took place. While I’m glad there was no property damage from this incident, I still can’t let go of this incident without feeling like such a carelss clod.
I’ve always been a very good speller, overall. I entered the spelling bee at my school when I was in the seventh or eighth grade. I choked on the very first word. It was a word that refers to an ape (or is it a monkey?) with a rather colorful face and a highly ::ahem:: decorated behind. See? I can’t even type the word.
That was horrible enough because the ENTIRE student body was there watching, but what really made it worse was that I was unable to withstand the relentless taunting from a group of three third-grade boys. They used to walk by my homeroom every single day after school and loudly spell the word correctly over and over and over. This went on for months. Sometimes I would stand there and take it, and sometimes I would hide from them so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.
There was a part of me that found the whole situation ridiculous, but there was another part of me that anticipated their arrival at my homeroom at the end of every day with dread.