Of all the traits that make up the woman behind Life Lessons From Around the Dinner Table, I think my favorite is that I don’t take myself too seriously.
I learned long ago that my ability to laugh at myself made it harder for people to laugh at me.
I remember Justin Long posting a story on Instagram (I love his stories) where he talked about learning the same thing. He said if you want to be funny, you can’t be afraid to embarrass yourself.
I responded by explaining that I was clumsy, and I learned to embrace it and let it roll off my shoulders.
He responded, “Kind and wise. You are going to go far in life.”
(He has responded to me a few times, gave me a shoutout when he went live on Instagram, and even blew me a kiss once! I’ll stop fangirling now).
I digress. We never know what traits others will find endearing. Of course, I wish I was more graceful. I don’t have much of it, but I’m a bit of an anomaly (I’m blessed that my friends say I’m a unicorn). I can trip barefoot, but I can walk, run, jump, and dance in 4″ stilettos with no problem.
I wrote a Facebook post explaining that I don’t understand how people can become so narcissistic. I don’t say this to put anyone down or make myself sound better than anyone. It’s just my brain won’t let me enjoy my success for too long.
Sometimes I’ll read through my old poetry and think, “Wow! That’s really good.”
My next thought comes immediately, “Hey, remember that time in seventh grade when our crush yelled at us across the school parking lot, and we failed to see a knee-high bush and tripped over it?”
Way to keep humble, brain!
A friend of mine responded, “I don’t know, I would have found that endearing.”
I informed him that I just stood up very quickly and shouted, “I’m okay!” Hahaha!
Twelve-year-old Kristian was terribly embarrassed, but thirty-eight-year-old Kristian would probably lie on the ground laughing so hard at herself she couldn’t stand up.
Fortunately, I have a great relationship with my neighbors across the street. We look out for one another, I bake for them, and they share their market produce with us. They are good people.
Their first impression of me was, well, humorous is the only word that comes to mind. I’m not sure what they would tell you if you were to ask them what they thought of me that day. Perhaps, “a few fries short of a happy meal” might come to mind. It was not my finest moment.
I hadn’t lived in my house very long. I was a newlywed, and my husband had left for work.
I was taking a shower when I heard a strange noise. I’m always on edge when I shower with no one in the house. I’ve never really gotten over my childhood trauma from watching Psycho.
I only stayed briefly in the shower. I wrapped a towel around me and snuck out of the bathroom, peeking around the corner to ensure no one was there. It was all clear, but I heard the noise again. I grabbed my closest weapon, the almighty broom, and went investigating. I located the source as coming from the front porch.
I looked out on the porch and saw nothing. I stepped out on the porch, closed the door behind me, and looked around to see what was making this awful noise. I peeked around a corner and saw a goose. I shrugged and walked back onto my porch, and went to open the door only to find that it was locked.
Why did I shut the door behind me anyway?
So, there I stood, wearing a towel while holding a broom, and locked out of my house.
While I already had the broom, I figured I might as well sweep the porch. I had a big cooler sitting on the front porch at the time, and I moved it near where I had seen the goose, forgetting that it was there.
I must have scared it because it jumped up on the porch and honked at me. I put my broom in front of me like it would protect me from the wild animal, and the goose pecked at it. That was enough to freak me out, so I made a mad leap off the front porch and ran into the yard. The stupid thing chased me! I had one hand holding a broom and the other holding up my towel as I ran in figure eights like I could outsmart a flying animal. Oh, what a sight it must have been!
The goose finally got bored with me, and I made it back to the porch. I thought about crawling in the window but realized there was no way to do that without flashing my goodies to the neighborhood. I had no choice. I had to sit on my porch and wait for my husband to come home, while keeping an eye out for rogue geese.
My neighbors waved to me from across the way, but they never came over. I can’t say I blame them.
What a great first impression!
At least I can laugh about it. My best advice to anyone is not to take yourself too seriously.
Love & life lessons,