It's odd how our embarrassing moments are funny when they are over and we are older, yet in the moment they are anything but a humorous conversation starter. There are simple things that bring us back waves of memories: good, bad, funny, sad, memorable, and sometimes unfortunately unforgettable. We may have odd objects or random thoughts and conversations that make us remember specific events and experiences. If you want a good laugh, count on me. I am definitely the type of person who has really humiliating stories. Take elementary school for example; I was the queen of awkward moments.There was this one day that I will never forget. It created a terrible nickname for me and gave my bullies the ammunition they needed. It was a day so cringe-worthy that it's now funny.

My mom and I went shopping for a new outfit the day before, which was a rare occasion since we only bought new clothes once a year, or for something special like a holiday or birthday. I surprisingly settled on a girly dress, mostly because the first outfit that I picked out didn’t make it past my mom. I wore a pair of matching flats and decided to wear a pair of these dorky gold cat earrings that my mother gave me.

I sat uncomfortably in one of the old, cold, hard wooden chairs in the school’s auditorium. Roughly 300 or more of my classmates were anxiously waiting to be told to sit up straight, smile, and look into the camera for the school photos. It was the day that children dread, look forward to, or could care less about.

I sat for 5...10...15 minutes. Every minute that passed, I became more wiggly than before, shifting from side to side and crossing and uncrossing my legs. I wasn’t nervous or excited, I just really needed to go to the bathroom, but I didn’t want to call over my teacher, Mrs. Jewett. She was on the other side of the room talking to the principal. I was too embarrassed to raise my hand and shout her name, especially since it would divert the entire class’ attention. A few minutes passed and I couldn’t bare it anymore. I felt like my bladder was an overfilled water balloon being sat on, its plastic layer expanding until its capacity was stretched to its limits. My hand shot up as fast as a bullet, and I patiently, well not really that patiently, waited a couple of seconds until I hollered, “Mrs. Jewett!!!” She seemed to be walking over to me in slow motion. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she came over to me and asked what I needed. She granted my request to use the bathroom but told me to hurry; although, I don’t think she meant run-waddling down the hall.

When I came back from the girls’ room I realized that my class had moved from sitting to standing in a line against the left hand wall. Mrs. Jewett called my name and I rushed, with new excitement, over to my class. All around the auditorium I heard snickering and hushed voices whispering my name.  I didn’t know what to think so I ignored them and stood at the end of the line and waited for my last name. The shorter the line, the louder the giggling. When I reached the front, even the teachers and photographer were laughing. What were they laughing at you may wonder? My new, clean, pretty dress was tucked into my white underwear. My face turned bright red and I tried with all my might not to cry as the crowded children behind me began to shout, “Whitey! Whitey! Whitey!”