Wednesday, August 05, 2009

This little piggy went "cringe, cringe, cringe," all the way home...

I am by no means a stranger to putting my foot in my mouth. Saying embarrassing or just plain inappropriate things comes second nature. Sometimes alcohol is involved, but more often than not, I have nothing but my own id to blame.

Maybe I get it from my mom.

She's sweet and great and nothing but supportive. But let's set the scene: I am by no means an artist. About a year ago, however, I decided to take up oil painting. I created my first piece I actually liked--so my masterpiece basically--and decided to cart it through two rentals and finally our first home.

Being the great mom she is, she paid a visit to Chicago to help us move and get situated in our new place last March. The weekend she visited, I pulled out the painting, hung it over the kitchen sink and called her in to see if she thought it was placed high enough or needed to be inched up.

Dustcloth in hand, she popped in and remarked, "Oh yeah that looks ok there. Anyway, you can always get something you like better--something nicer--once you're all settled in."

"Um, mom. I painted that."


So what's your worst faux pas? The classic pregnancy query? Something more exotic.How did you recover from receiving an unintended insult?

Because it was my mom, eh, no big deal. She tried to ease the situation by noting that, because it was an abstract painting, I could hang it any which way best fit the empty wall. Maybe making it worse, but hey, her heart was in the right place.

P.S. Speaking of feet, I'm SO obsessed with orange these days, I went and painted my nails Mod-ern Girl by OPI.

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