Mortification of a Mom

Nothing humbles you like being a Mom.

Take for example, the scenario that played out while taking Dakota to horseback riding lessons the other night.

We arrived at the stables early (for once) and were waiting in the small waiting room with a window looking out into the riding arena. There's a couch in this sitting room and one the couch was a very hoity toity uppity mom watching her daughter's lesson in the arena. No big deal. We waited patiently for the instructor to finish the lesson so Dakota could start hers. The boys and Dakota were huddled in a corner watching the horses thru the window and I was in an uncomfortable chair (because hoity toity was HOGGING the couch) reading my book (For One More Day by Mitch Albom in case you were wondering...highly recommended). My 3 were whispering and playing quietly much to my delight, when all of the sudden the silence was disrupted by THE LOUDEST, LONGEST, umm how do I put this delicately...TOOT ever. (The word "fart" is probably more fitting but we don't say that word...seriously the word alone grosses me out.) I immediately looked at my kids with that look of shock and horror on my face when Dakota looked at me, smiled and said, "Oops, 'scuse me." Dakota!! Not one of my male offspring who are known for that sort of thing but MY DAUGHTER. As if that weren't enough to make me run into a horse stall and hide for the rest of my life, as soon as she got done saying excuse me, SHE LET ANOTHER ONE!
Yep, I was done. I couldn't even look at Miss Hoity Toity, instead I looked at Dakota with "the look", you know the one that says "might be time to look at adoption", to which she responded, "Oops, 'scuse me again. MUST'VE BEEN THOSE BEANS WE HAD ON SUNDAY!"
Are you kidding me? Sadly, no these are actual events.
The worst part? Well, besides Dakota not being the least bit embarrassed and truth be told, slightly proud? Which is odd because GI Joe and I are not the type to find amusement and entertainment in burping and tooting and have never encouraged public displays of either, but the worst part? Ummm yeah...THE SMELL. Small room + no ventilation + not 1 but 2 deadly tooting assaults=EXTREME NOSE BURNING, EYE WATERING, UNCOMFORTABLE AWKWARDNESS WITH HOITY TOITY. Can you imagine what she went home and told her doctor husband? I bet it went a little something like this:
HT: "Apparently, our stables are lowering the standards on who they will instruct"
DR: "Oh really? Why is that dear?"
HT: "There were these backwoods hillbillies there and one of them....THE GIRL....had a terrible case of flatulence and wasn't the least bit embarrassed by it."
DR: "How disgusting. What is wrong with people these days? Does no one teach their children manners anymore?"
HT: "Maybe they don't use manners out in the sticks."

Lessons learned from this experience:
*Time to find a new night for Dakota's horseback riding lesson so as to avoid future contact with Hoity Toity. I can't face her.
*No more beans and cornbread for Dakota. Even though it was delicious. Thanks Pioneer Woman, thanks a lot.
*Being a mom is such a GAS.

I'll be here all week...hiding in a horse stall.