What embarassing moment does your family bring up about you? (TMI)

In My Humble Opinion
1

In my dad;s family, whenever something embarassing/humorous/awkward happens to someone, the whole family will keep bringing it up. We have get-togethers every other Sunday where we often celebrate someone’s birthday (everyone’s birthday is so evenly distributed through the year, its almost always someone’s birthday when we get together :slight_smile: ) and eat dinner. 99% of the time, someone will bring up something that happened to one of us…YEARS AGO, and laugh and laugh as if it just happened :wally

For example, years ago, my aunt was looking at sunglasses in a store. She put a pair on, and continued shopping. It was only until much later that she realized she walked out of the store with the sunglasses on without paying for them :eek: my family still brings this up. Her daughter (who is 1.5 years old) will be hearing this story for the next 20 years of her life :stuck_out_tongue:

But they really like to pick on me. I have a lot of stories that they tell. The first one is the infamous ‘Baby Ruth’ incident. When I was very young, like 1 or 2 years old, everybody was at a friend of the family’s for a barbecue. They had a pool, and I was with my parents in the shallow end. According to the story, I pooped in the pool, and nobody noticed it right away. Later, someone saw this brown log floating around in the pool, mistook it for a Baby Ruth (candybar) and picked it up :eek: (Why don’t they make fun of THAT guy, huh? :mad: instead I seem to be the brunt of the joke in this story. Frankly they should all give that guy a collective Nelson “HA HA!” for mistaking a turd for a candy bar! :mad: )

It doesn’t stop there! Oh no, plenty more humiliation on my part that will get told for ages to come…when I was 14 my family went on a trip to Cancun, Mexico. We were in the hotel pool, which overlooked the beach. My dad says, “Hey Incubus, there is a topless woman out there!”. At 14, topless women were very interesting to me :wink: but I didn’t have my glasses on. I could see the woman he was talking about, but I couldn’t tell if she was topless or just wearing a bikini (too far away and too hard for me to see). At first I thought my dad was lying, since he always likes to mess with me. But I also thought about the possibility that I might miss out on seeing some hot topless woman just bouncing around on the beach, so I ran out of the pool, back to our stuff to get my glasses. My stepmom had moved then and I asked exhasperated, “Where’s my glasses? I need my glasses!” my stepmom, who was reading a book, asked, “What for?” and I said “Because there’s…uh…because!” well my stepmom got quite a laugh when she found out it was so I could ogle some topless woman :stuck_out_tongue: . Ten years and they still bring this one up. They were joking about it during the Alaskan cruise we went on last summer. Hell, just my luck that trip started a new embarassing story they’ll talk about- I met a ladyfriend on the cruise and spent the better part of the wee hours of the night in her cabin. Since I was normally sharing a cabin with my brother and cousins, and spending all day dancing and drinking with this woman, it was painfully obvious what was going on. I can’t wait till I hear how they spin this one :stuck_out_tongue:

So anybody else have an embarassing/funny incident that keeps getting mentioned in family circles? Some people might think what my family does is rude, but its just how we get along. I’m not pissed at then for teasing me about what happened, I laugh about it too. If anything, it gives me a good reason to jump all over them the next time they embarass themselves (sooner or later! :smiley: )

2

:slight_smile: :rolleyes: :dubious: :cool: :smack: :stuck_out_tongue: :wink: ;j :smiley: :confused: :o :eek: :frowning: :mad: :wally

3

Oh, yeah. In my family it is the time that my father told my brother to stop eating while he was talking to him. My dad kind of yelled. I guess this freaked my brother out. He stopped eating alright. He let the piece of chicken he had been chewing plop out of his mouth onto the plate. Everyone was laughing to hard then for my dad to get a point across.

4

I agree.

5

When I was really young (like, seven or eight) I was trying to become friends with the one girl that no one liked in my class. She had a bit of an incontinence problem so she always had a smell and she was really poor, so she didn’t have nice clothes or a professional haircut, her bangs looked like they were cut with garden shears.

I made friends with her because I thought it sucked that no one even got to know her before immediately making her the butt of all jokes.

My mom asked me why no one liked her. I said that she dresses differently and her mom won’t let her wear tennis shoes (sneakers). My mom asked “what kind of shoes does she wear?” and I replied “moccassins”. Only, I’d never heard the word pronounced, I’d only read it, so I said “moe-CAUSE-ins” rather than “MOCK-a-sins”.

I still hear about this going on a decade later. I don’t hear about what a kind soul I was for trying to get to know the girl no one likes risking my own very tenuous popularity.

6

The time my penis got stuck in my zipper when I was 10 or 11 and I was in the bathroom screaming. :frowning:

7

When I was about 3 I decided my kittens wanted to go swimming and one of them drowned.

8

:eek:

9

My family likes to tell all kinds of stories about me, especially when we’re around twenty-something acquaintances of theirs whom I’d just as soon impress…

Their favorite:

When I was little I frequently got up early in the morning (we’re talking 5:30, 6 AM, regardless of when I was put to bed). Naturally my parents did not want to be up that early on weekends, so if I came into their room hungry and wanting something to do they’d tell me to go downstairs and get some bread and watch cartoons.

One morning after my mom came downstairs I said, “Mommy, that blue bread was good!” Apparently there had been only moldy bread in the bread drawer, and not knowing the difference, I’d scarfed some down.

I still don’t understand how this story is supposed to reflect badly on me. I was about four at the time and had no idea what blue bread meant. Shouldn’t my mom be embarrassed that she sent her child downstairs to eat bad food?

10

I guess I was about three years old, listening to “Stayin’ Alive” and well … the funk was too much for me to handle. I had to groove.

Or so my older brother reminds me pretty much every time I see him.

11

Mine was when I was about 8 or so. My parents had a slide projector and they decided to record a narration of the slides as they were being shown so when family came over to watch the slides they could just play a tape instead of explaining everyone of the pictures.

They decided to let me try and narrate. (I think they thought it would be cute to have my voice on the recording)

Of course I had no idea what to say about each picture. My father suggested something to the effect of “Here is a beautiful picture of nature” as there were lots of pictures of trees and flowers and such. So I bravely grab the microphone and the slides begin.

“Here is a beautiful scene of nature” (CLICK to next slide) “And here is another beautiful scene of nature” (Click to next slide) “and here is another beautiful scene of nature”

I think you get the idea. 20 slides later I am still repeating this same line and my mother, father and brother are behind the slide screen stifling laughs as best they could so I would not get upset. I was a very sensitive child and I can still be even at the age of 35.

My mother still brings it up and takes great skill at telling the story to whoever will listen. She especially loves to tell it to my children’s friends so they can also laugh at me. And no they do not even try to stifle their laughter :stuck_out_tongue:

12

  1. When I was about 8, I was trying to tell my mother about two things that were similar, and I pronounced it “sim-IL-yer”. I had only run across it while reading. I don’t know why the family still thinks that one’s so funny.

  2. Incubus, I also pooped in the pool. Mom’s still a little annoyed with me about that one, I think because it was her boyfriend who had to get it out.

  3. A story Mom tells to illustrate what a cold-hearted b*tch I have always been: When my brother and I were very young, we saw a kid in a wheelchair. Mom explained to us that the boy couldn’t walk and he would never run and play like we could. I remember this incident very clearly, and I couldn’t understand why Mom was trying to throw acid all over our emotions by telling us this terrible thing, but I was determined to be stoic about it. I said, “At least he gets to ride in a chair all the time!”

  4. This one happened to my Grandma. She was telling a story at a family gathering about something that had happened to her when she and her brother were little kids. As she reached the climax of the story, “Your Uncle Bobby was jumping up and down, he was so excited, and he said…” she was jumping around herself to illustrate, and she ripped out a giant fart. We all fell out laughing and we never did hear the end of that story. (Uncle David’s comment–“That Bobby…he was a real card.”)

13

My dad’s favorite story to tell is about the time when I was just learning how to use the potty all by myself. They frequently got disgusted when they would go in the bathroom and find that I had neglected to flush the toilet. After enough spankings, I quickly learned. My dad talks about how I would be outside playing, and would all of a sudden get up, run into the bathroom, flush the toilet, and then run back outside to play. They thought it was nothing more than eccentricity until the morning my Dad was at home alone.

Mom had already taken me to the babysitter’s and gone off to work, so Dad knew he was the only person in the house. That’s why he was extremely startled to hear the unmistakeable sounds of someone using the toilet. He ran into the bathroom, and saw our Siamese cat, Sir John Boyer, daintily using the toilet. Sir John glared at Dad and ran out of the room. Dad flushed the toilet, and felt very, very, very guilty for all the spankings I got for Sir John’s indiscretions.

You can lead a cat to the toilet, but you can’t teach him to flush! :smack:

14

I break things. And spill things. A lot.

I am inherently clumsy. In my 29th year, I have learned to move slower, to be more careful, to be more graceful. More often than not I have lightning quick reflexes so when I do drop something, 9 times out of 10 I can catch it.

It’s the 10th time that’s always a doozy. About once a month, it’s a big spill or something broken. My last was a simple wine glass. Not horrible, just the stem broke and shattered, but my SO got a piece in his foot.

Throughout my life I have been affectionately known as ‘Toofan’, or “Hurricane”.

My family always has new evidence of my clumsiness to share with people, and this is what they talk about.

15

Here in the South, no body activity is called its actual name, not when a colloquialism is available. Keep this in mind.

When I was a wee child of 4, my bestest friend moved to a new house and one afternoon I got to go home with her one afternoon and see her room. After a while, I went up to her mother and told her I had to “choo”. She looked at me strange and gave me a piece of gum. I looked at her strange but hey, free gum! In a couple of minutes, I went up to her again and asked nicely, “Please. I really need to choo!” She fussed at me for being wasteful and gave me another piece of gum. To which I said, “Thank you, but I don’t need anymore gum. I need to choo.” She told me to stop being smart and to not leave her daughter’s bedroom until my dad came to get me. Well within a few minutes I am bawling my eyes out and Mrs. Gum comes in and asks me why. “Because I need to choo and you won’t let me and momma’s gonna be mad.” And there and then, I exploded as only an upset, 4 year old could - all over their pretty new white carpet.

My mom never taught me the word “toilet” or “Number 2”; she always called it “choo” or “shoo” because of the smell.

That poor woman.

16

I used to make up dance routines, and once, when I was 13, I made the horrible mistake of letting my uncle videotape it. I looked so serious and I had this horrible curly perm with wings. My brothers used to play that tape over and over until I think it disintigrated. It was embarassing, even years later.

As for my brother, about every other Sunday, my dad likes to bring up how he used a small axe to try to cut down this tree my dad had planted in the yard. Indybrother was probably 11 or 12 and certainly knew better, but something got into him and he really wanted to cut that tree down. He didn’t cut it all the way through, but enough that the tree rotted and died. My dad still won’t let him live it down and he’s 26 now. In fact, dad has threatened to come over to his house and cut down any trees my brother plants. He says it jokingly, but he’s not kidding…in our family we know how to hold a grudge and dad really holds a grudge about that tree. :smiley:

But then, after those stories we are obligated to tell the one about my dad eating these dehydrated potatoes like they were potato chips. I guess he thought they’d be a good diet food so he ate and ate them, and then had a big glass of water. I don’t think I have to explain what happened then. Water + dehydrated potatoes=dumb idea. He was sick for days. He gets really mad when that gets brought up. But, still, it’s a funny ass story.

17

When I was about two, I was exceptionally quiet while my mother had a date over. Obviously, this aroused suspision. However, I was soon to make my presence known. By displaying my latest artistic endeavor…

I had fashioned an extremely interesting necklace for the visitor to see, which I proudly wore around my neck.

Out of tampons.

:eek: :eek: :eek:

There are many, many more that get drudged up from time to time, but I’ll spare y’all only one humilating fiasco of mine per post.

18

Once when we were replanting my Moms garden one summer, I thought it would be funny to step on a rake like in the cartoons. I was about ten so was prone to thinking of dumb stuff like that. Anyway instead of stepping on it I ran jumped on it with both feet, the rake slammed into my face so hard that I staggered backwards and fell into the wading pool. I now get to hear that story at least once a year.

19

This was no fault of my own.

Two guys of difference ethnic background at different times in my young, impressionable life had crushes on me.

Growing up in an Uptight and White Neighborhood Are there any other kind? , it was sorta noticed. It is hard enough being a kid with a fuzzy home perm, flat chest, gangly and a dork to find out a boy likes you,What’s wrong with him? when you have to deal with Uppity White People And Their Emotional Constipation, it just aggrevates the situation. Its not like the ages of 10-30 are emotionally embarrassing to be around family as it is.

My one ( late) brother would periodically bring up one or two of the guys’ names: Clarence or Hong. It always brought back a flood of embarrassment for me for my family and their failure to grasp the situation of ignorance & bigotry.
:rolleyes:

20

At lunch today I was telling my sister Izzybella about this thread. She looked at me with this resigned expression on her face, and I realized she thought that I told on her. I didn’t.

But as I looked at her, I suddenly realized which story she thought I shared about her, and it’s really really really really funny, but if I shared it, she’d kill me.

What’s really funny is that as soon as I started laughing, she started defending her actions from all those years ago.