Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The Great Cornbread Debacle

*The first installment for our little game.


I had a wedding to attend. Let me rephrase that: I had to get my children up and ready, get myself ready, get Ruth ready, take Ruth to a drop zone, drop off my children, and drive to Idaho Falls (45 min. away) by 9:30 a.m.


And for some reason, I was possessed early in the morning to bake cornbread for breakfast. Why I couldn’t just give the children their usual cold cereal is a question I have asked myself again and again since that day.


I slid the pan of batter into the oven, set the timer, and jumped into the shower. I have the cornbread/shower routine down to a science, and know that if all goes right, I can shower, have my hair dried, makeup done, and clothes on by the time the timer beeps. I cannot, however, shave my legs, too.


So I shaved my legs, and put a rush on the rest of my routine, hoping to buck the system.


I grabbed some clothes from my closet, and heard a faint, “beeeeeeep.” Unable to ascertain whether or not it was a “the timer just went off” beep, or a “the timer went off twelve minutes ago, and your kitchen is now engulfed in flames” beep, I decided I’d better get the cornbread out of the oven and THEN get dressed. It was barely 7:30, after all, and no one would be awake yet, so who cares if I’m wearing only my underclothing?


I ran down the hall, skidded around the corner and saw my brother-in-law (The youngest one. The one who is fresh off his mission. The one who has never seen a woman in her under wear. Not that it matters WHICH brother-in-law it was...) standing in my kitchen.


In the split second it took for the faux pas to dawn on the both of us, he gave a cheery, “hey!” I opened my mouth wide, gasped, and clamped my arms down hard over my bra, and he uttered a discernible moan of awkwardness as he turned away.


It seemed like minutes before my brain finally telegraphed the information to my legs to high-tail it back to my bedroom, where I stood in shock for a few seconds before breaking down in convulsive (but quiet) laughter, waking Ty from a peaceful dream wherein his wife never traumatizes his brothers into eternal bachelorhood.


Suddenly I was sober again, asking Ty what I should do. He was no help, having just awakened, and having just told me, “It’s not that big a deal. He’s seen you in a swim suit.”


But for some reason, a swim suit is one thing. If I had walked out in my swim suit, it would have been odd, and I would have still made a hasty retreat, but a swim suit is not under wear. There is something so EMBARRASSING about being seen in your UNDER wear. They belong UNDER things, where no one can see them.


The “beep, beep” of the oven timer blared in my ear, reminding me that I would have to eventually (in the next few seconds) go back out to the kitchen to face the fact: my relationship with my brother-in-law could never be the same. What would I say? How could I shrug it off? How should I ease the tension that was sure to make me blush every time I see him from now to eternity?


I didn’t know any of the answers. So I went back out to the kitchen to claim my by-then-very-brown cornbread consolation prize, and casually shoot over my shoulder some comment about how lucky he is that I had AT LEAST put on my underwear…


…and would he like a piece of fresh cornbread?

12 comments:

Sandra said...

I love overcooked cornbread. I melt a little cheddar cheese on the top then spread with cream cheese and jelly!

I prefer not to eat it in the company of almost naked sister-in-laws or cousins.

I'm reserving judgement until all the stories are published and I can compare feasibility.

Sharlee said...

GREAT story! Loved every second of it.

NEXT!!!!!!

Stephanie said...

I would have just died! I hope that was not true. I agree, there's something so embarrassing about underwear.

Jen Merrill said...

ohhh man i hope thats true!!

Christy said...

I love cornbread too. However I have never thought of making it that early in the morning! Hmm...next story please!?

The United Statements of Merica said...

rolling on the floor laughing. That's my worst nightmare.. I go to great lengths to manipulate my figure and i don't wanting anyone to know what the ugly truth looks like. At LEAST you were wearing your bra! I'm getting you a robe for chirstmas if that's a true story! If it's not.. you are one heck of a liar.

The United Statements of Merica said...

hey.. if your going to make fun of your own appearance, do it sounding like an idiot.. that's what i always say.

Amber said...

Prude. I prance around in my unmentionables for all to see (and the fact that I just called them unmentionables might hint at the truthfulness of that statement). I call LIES LIES LIES. But I loved every bit of it. On to round 2.

ps. my word verification is buusom. Made me laugh.

Marianne said...

Oh my goodness! I am dying! And I also feel for you- next time you see me, ask me about my landlord seeing me in my garments and an apron.

Elisabeth said...

I had to wait until my fresh c-section incision was a little more healed before starting these. You hurt me.. And it feels so good.

Mardee Rae said...

crossing my fingers: please be true, please be true!

Michelle said...

I saw my BIL in his underroos. I just pretended like everything was normal because I didn't have much other choice.