On the subject of humiliation

Like most people, I am most philosophical when I am driving. Today's ponderings dealt with humiliating events. As humans, we all deal with humiliation of various degrees. I am of the opinion that the most humiliating events generally take place when you are at your most insecure stages such as childhood. Mine did, and oh, dear friends, was is it a doozy.

Let's set the scene shall we? At the young age of 13, enduring odd things like voice changings and the sprouting of hair in nether regions, I am walking home from school with all of the neighborhood kids. This motley gaggle of children, while they could be your best friends, at any given moment could turn on you like a rabid pack of wolves. The road on which my home lied was a slight upward slope. Carefree as we began to crest the hill my heart sunk as I looked upwards towards my backyard. There, in all their glory, hanging on the clothesline.....all of my underware for the world to see. "Maybe no one will notice", I hoped.

Queue the torrents of laughter from the afore mentioned wolves. Insults were not even necessary, as the Scarlet H blazed upon my chest. I wish it stopped there, but alas, having your friends see your line fresh tighty whities, while humiliating, holds no candle to knowing that you the next morning your were destined to wear Hanes that felt as though they had been starched (Blogger's note: clothes line dried clothes have a peculiar texture to them, the polar opposite of the soft goodness clothes have after coming out of a normal drier).

Moral of the story. Never do this to your children. It will scar them for life.