Is it red in here, or is it just me?

In preparation for getting rich and famous I wanted to release a couple of the skeletons from my closet. I figure if I do it now then I take away the power from those who wish me ill. If I don't get rich and famous then I suppose I am just embarrassing myself. Lucky for you!

In keeping with being a goofball (my affectionate name from Sylvia) when we were dating, I disclosed much the same thing before she came to a family dinner for the first time. She knew some of the family before (the "how we met" story is for another blog) but I needed to prepare her for the stories about me when I was little. I told her that my family sort of enjoyed teasing and, unfortunately, I had given them plenty of material to work with. My sister was particularly adept...and she would be there. I had to break the news.

I told Sylvia that she would hear a tale of woe about a poor elementary student who wanted to take a prized possession home. One Easter (right now you should all realize that my sister, reading this, is laughing hysterically!) my school decided to give every student who ordered school lunch a decorated Easter egg. This, of course, was before nachos were considered a meal and Salisbury steak was a treat. We each had our colored eggs along with the other food on the tray and I didn't want to crack mine open. Thinking back, this may have been the last time I didn't clean my plate.

Being the resourceful kid I was, I put that egg in the safest place known to little boys! The front pocket of my corduroy pants! You can see where this is going already, right? Well, I went through the rest of the day and honestly didn't think about it again. Didn't stop playing tether ball, didn't stay upright on the monkey bars, didn't rely on cootie spray to keep the girls away. And I didn't realize that eggs were not indestructible...much later. When I got home I reached into my pocket and pulled out the driest unassembled egg salad known to man. All in full view of my sister, who carries that story around like an automatic ego-deflator. I had to tell Sylvia all about this event before Sue stood up at the wedding when the pastor said, "Does anyone know any reason...?"

Now let's jump ahead to after Sylvia and I are married. I know, I know...I skipped a bit. I am writing a blog, not a Time Life 42 volume set. I need to be choosy. This story is a doozy in the red face department, and I have no youthful cluelessness to blame.

One evening we were shopping at Price Club, which was Price Costco before it turned into Costco, and Sylvia needed to do something at the front desk in front of the registers. As I was standing by the cart waiting for Sylvia she caught my eye and motioned for me to go over to help a woman. This woman had her back to me and she was obviously struggling with the packaging on something.

Let me take a moment here to make an appeal to packagers everywhere. Not everything in life needs to be hermetically sealed in three and a half pounds of explosion proof plastic. I'm guessing the solid steel dumbbell could withstand a little bump without too much harm.

Well I am always willing to help someone who needs it so I walked up to this damsel in distress and said, "Can I lend you a hand?"

Simple right? Nothing wrong with that. I cannot think of a single person who might think that I was being pushy. It was not a pick up line (my lack of pick up lines is a 58 volume set) not to mention that I am very happily married. No problem!

Until...this woman says, "Excuse me!?!" and turns around to show me a stainless steel prosthetic hand.

Now I have a size 14 shoe, but it slipped nicely into my mouth that day. It was probably easier since my 6'3" frame shrank to roughly the size of a dried pea in two seconds flat. I managed to feebly gesture to Sylvia and squeak something like, "she... say... help... you..." and I slunk away while mentally working out the final dimensions of the flux capacitor on my time machine. I definitely wanted to go back and try this event again...without tasting shoe.

So there you have it. Letting a little light into the skeleton closet and taking a little sting out of the "gotcha" television interviews from the future. Not that I know for sure that there will be any...but just for kicks, does anyone know where I could find some plutonium... or 1.21 gigawatts of electricity and a really long extension cord?