Embarrassing moments tend to find me. I think they seek me out. Over the years I've gotten pretty good at learning to roll with it, to follow it up with a sarcastic comment, and to laugh at my own expense. But the other day I just couldn't think fast enough and did the one thing that makes any embarrassing moment that much worse: I turned fifty shades of red.
As some of you know, when I'm not hanging out with Claire, blogging, or on a shoot, I spend my days working with kids. Babies, to be more specific. Sweet and angelic (but very very sick) babies. I love my job, I love my kiddos, and I love helping their families get through tough times. Most of the babies I work with are patients for quite awhile, so naturally I get to know their families pretty well. The other day was one of celebration for one of my patients - she got to go home. I was checking in with the family before they left to make sure they didn't need anything else. I leaned over the crib to say goodbye to this little angel and said... [wait for it]...
"Bye sweet baby dog."
Oh. Good. Heavens. A term of endearment that I use with Claire. A term that I frequently use with Claire. So frequently that it just popped out when I was talking to a BABY. In front of her FAMILY. I'm pretty sure that the family thought I said "baby doll" - which was very much what I intended - but I was mortified. I felt the color rush to my face and so I did what any embarrassed girl would do: I pretended that I didn't look like a beet and I just kept the conversation going as if nothing happened.
I need some new nicknames to take the place of that one. This cannot happen again.