Now that I am a controversial writer, I have decided it's perfectly acceptable to start telling privately humiliating stories on this blog.
Despite dying from a terrible cold, I decided to suck it up for my intramural flag football game. I would have to be hospitalized before I would miss one of those.
Before going to the game, I asked Porter to take me to Wal Mart so I could stock up on drugs.
*Disclaimer* If you get weirded out by the word "tampon" like my little brothers, now may be a good time to quit reading. Full disclosure, I'm open about this stuff and things are about to get weird.
Also, if tampons freak you out, it's time to get over it. The reality is mother nature leaves a special little present every month for women to endure for a few days. It's good times.
Back to our tale. Porter and I are at Wal Mart in the pharmacy section. I'm literally picking up every bottle of NyQuil I can find. Then I remembered, I need to get tampons.
This is actually out of the ordinary because I have a neat little stick stuck in my arm that serves as my birth control. As a result, I have only had a couple of periods over the last two and half years. TMI? I don't care.
So, I have one arm carrying all of my meds, and the other hand is holding a box of tampons. We start to walk out of the pharmacy section, when Porter decides to act like a 12 year old boy and giggle at the condoms on the shelves.
He picks up a box of them and exclaims (quite loudly), "Car, check this one out...it's ribbed!"
Now I have started in on the teenage humor and teased, "Well nothing gets past a trojan!"
We start busting up laughing as we are standing in front of the condom section. Then Porter glances down the aisle.
Busted. We have been caught...with condom in hand.
There is a huge man standing there, staring at us checking out the condoms.
"Oh, hey...." Porter says to this large man.
Embarrassed by the fact that he is holding a condom in his hand and giggling with his wife, Porter tried to diffuse the situation.
"Carlie, this _____ _________, he's on the football team. _____ _______, this is my wife, Carlie."
(Porter works for BYU Football, so he knows all of the players and sees these guys every day in the locker room. Every. Day.)
The football player, trying to be polite, sticks out his hand to shake mine. I reach for his, only to realize I have giant box of tampons in my hand. Now I'm trying to juggle cold and cough medicine with my feminine products in order to shake this guy's hand who just caught me and my husband "shopping" for rubbers.
I started to stutter about how we were just in the pharmacy section to buy medicine...not birth control materials, but it just felt uncomfortable. After I shook his hand, I just turned and walked away leaving Porter to deal with the situation (while still holding those tender little specimen).
Moral of the story: Only stand in front of the condom section when you are ACTUALLY purchasing them. We have never bought one, which made attempting to convince this football player we weren't about to get frisky all the more complicated.
As we walked out, Porter turned to me and said, "You know I have never really been embarrassed before...until just now."
Until next time,