When it comes to awkward situations, it’s hard to top a young woman’s first period. Even in the best of situations it’s an inherently shocking event, and there’s really no way to be fully prepared for it. But for AFP fan Annabelle, her first period was made exponentially more awkward, with the help of her mother. Take it away, Annabelle!
Reader Andrea sent us this email from her relative, and it’s a doozy. The email contains the itinerary for a boy named Jack’s first birthday week. Yes, you read that right: birthday week, as in, a full week of activities celebrating Jack’s first year of life. To put that in perspective, the Queen of England only celebrates her birthday for two days every year. Check out the full week’s agenda below and remember, he’s ONE!Read More →
We received this story from Dave (above and yes, that’s actually Dave) and had to share it with you in all of its unedited glory. We hope that everyone can learn something from his harrowing experience and if you don’t believe it was harrowing, just count the exclamation points.
We bolded the juicy parts. Take it away, Dave…
First of all, let me make it clear. This is a true and unembellished story.
Nancy was pregnant with our second child Aaron and was probably in about the 8th month, rather balloon like in shape! We were attending a small church in Northwestern, Ohio close to where both of us were raised. As we entered the sanctuary while looking for a pew that would accommodate my wife’s delicate condition, we turned down the main aisle. I was walking directly behind Nancy when it happened! To my utter disbelief and sheer gut wrenching horror, I looked down and saw my wife’s underwear on the floor!!!
My mind was a dizzying blur, almost an out of body experience! Different thoughts raced through my head. Oh God what do I do? If I ignored them, someone else might pick them up…. a really bad idea! “Will the owner of the white oversize panties please come to the lost and found?” A really really bad idea!! If I move as in slow motion trying not to draw any extra attention, if that were even possible considering what had just happened, (After all how much more attention could we get!!!) an usher might assist me, an even worse idea! ” Here sir, let me help with those…….!!!!!!!!!!!!” At this point my only two options were to:
A. Faint, acting as though I was slain in the spirit, which would seem strange considering this was a non-charismatic church!
B. Act fast hoping that if I moved at lightning speed I could some how reverse time and wipe this event out my mind as well as of the minds of the 12 people who witnessed this but were now trying not to look by rearranging hymnals or making diverting comments. “Look Virgil, isn’t that the third week in a row the pastor has worn that suit”. “Yes Marge, It’s time for the ole love offering”.
As you’ve probably guessed by now, I chose the second one and during the following several years tried to blot this event out of my mind. Well apparently God has either a rather strange, almost twisted sense of humor or my wife needed to buy much better fitting underwear because as you’ve probably already guessed, “it” happened again!!
Now, nearly 6 years later and she, once again with child, at least 7 or 8 months worth, was back to the previous pear like shape! As fate or the mischievous hand of God would have it, we were again in church. This time we were in West Lafayette Indiana at a church we had only attended a handful of times. As we were exiting after the service, we stopped briefly to shake hands with a gentleman standing in the foyer. As we started to engage in idle yet holy chit chat “something” fluttered softly downward toward the foyer’s carpeted floor! At first my mind refused to accept the graphic reality of what my eyes were seeing! “Oh merciful God in heaven, tell me this is not happening again!” “Just let me die now!!!!!”
The next few minutes seemed to last an eternity, with time moving as slowly as molasses in January! The sense of déjà vu and flashbacks to the incident 6 years earlier turned my brain into something resembling petrified silly putty! “Maybe you could send the rapture Lord!” my mind briefly uttered, but quickly rejected the idea when I realized that the three of us would probably be stuck in the same heavenly elevator having the same conversation only now accompanied by harps!
I also know this incident had to be difficult for my wife but let’s face it, women only need to utter either of the magic “P” words (pregnant or pms) and are generally given a free ride no matter how wacky the behavior! “Let’s see mam, you ran five stop lights, created several free form crop circles and turned a poor cow into ground round. Pregnant?…..OK go on and have a nice day!”
Well, we all stood there as still as dime store mannequins for what seemed like a hundred years!! I was still hoping the panties would somehow spontaneously explode to release me from this torment, but alas, that was not to be! I thought of ways to divert attention….. Perhaps start a conversation about Da Bears since Chicago was close…. but reality set in and I remembered…I DON’T KNOW SQUAT ABOUT FOOTBALL!!! Darn it… I knew I should have signed up for those intramurals in the eighth grade! Maybe start coughing and act like I was choking.. yes that might just work! Then it hit me.. This guy that I hardly know would perform mouth to mouth on me…. maybe not as good an idea as I had thought!! (a little too friendly).
Well, what finally happened was that I edged closer to my wife while straining to chit chat, snagged the panties on my wing tip, reached down as if scratching my leg, grabbed the panties (it was like poetry in motion) until I realized my wife was standing on the other corner of the underwear!!! SNAP!!!!!! “Can this get any worse, Lord?” We finally somehow extricated ourselves and hurriedly scampered out the door. This was our last visit to this church, that is without disguises!!!!
(submitted by Dave)
Reddit user rniscior shared this story of the time he nearly traumatized his whole class during show and tell.
I’ve never spoken about this since it happened, but out there somewhere, there are 30 former fourth graders who, if asked, can recall the horror on my face.
It all began the summer of 1995. We had taken a family trip to Mammoth Caves in Kentucky. My dad brought a camcorder he had recently purchased and taped many of the tours we went on. We had a great time.
Fast-forward to the school year.
We were studying geology at the time, and my teacher decided to incorporate this into our regular show and tell session. We were to gather rocks from our neighborhoods and bring them into class. Naturally I recalled the awesome rock formations I had seen at Mammoth Caves, and asked if I could bring the video instead. My teacher was thrilled, and agreed.
Sounds good so far.
I went home and asked my mom and dad if I could share one of the tapes. They agreed and told me I could retrieve the tapes myself.
Now, let me backtrack a little before I get to the nitty gritty. I was a very curious kid. I would sneak into anywhere I could just to explore and see things. My parents’ bedroom was one of the locations I would sneak into. That’s how I knew about the camcorder tapes in their dresser.
I grabbed one of the camcorder tapes from their dresser. It was marked “#3.” I think I figured it was labeled that way because my dad took so many videos on the trip, and I had never really seen him use the camcorder for anything else. I put the tape in my backpack, never expecting the horror that was to come.
Show and tell day was finally here. I couldn’t wait to knock the socks off of everyone with my videos of stalagmites, stalactites–
I could make a very juvenile joke here, but I won’t.
–and cave rooms filled with glittering quartz. At last my turn was next! My teacher rolled the TV/VCR to the front of the room and announced, “You’re all in for a verrry special treat!” She popped the video into the VCR and pressed “Play.”
I immediately recognized my parents’ bedroom on the TV screen. “Huh, thats odd,” I thought to myself. Then, in the corner of the screen, my mom appeared. In lingerie. Followed by my dad. In a Speedo!
My teacher realized what was happening and raced to shut off the TV before the class witnessed anything rated “R.” We only saw ten seconds of footage, but it seemed to last an eternity. It’s still burned into my memory, along with the uproarious laughter of 30 ten-year-old kids.
Brutal. But there’s more. Of course there’s more.
My teacher grabbed the tape and called me to the hallway. I was in tears. Mortified. She asked me what the hell I was thinking. I told her I had no idea what was on the tape. Luckily she believed me, but she still had to send me to principal’s office. The principal called my parents and told them to come to school pick up the tape.
That’s going to make for an awkward Parents’ Night.
I was sent back to class. I’m 30 now, and stepping back into that classroom was the single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I was ridiculed for weeks.
As for my mom and dad, they never spoke of the incident with me. I’m sure they figured the embarrassment was punishment enough. They never came to get the tape, either.
THEY LEFT THE TAPE AT THE SCHOOL?!
If you’re the parents, both choices here are terrible. Either you go retrieve the tape, and have to face everyone at the school, or you let your personal porn remain in the wild for anyone to find. I don’t know what I would have done. Probably just change my name and move to another state. Does The Witness Protection Program help people in this situation? They should.
In any event, this is a reminder for everyone out there to ALWAYS hide your personal porn well. Hide it in the walls, if you have to, or bury it in the yard. And for goodness sake, don’t label it something innocuous because that’s how it gets seen by accident. You might as well label it “Mom and Dad Having Sex.” No kid’s gonna watch that.
Also, I’m 100% sure the teachers all watched the tape.
If you’re a fan of Ayn Rand and even if you’re not, you will enjoy this. The following is a real letter Ayn to her 17-year-old-niece, Connie, compiled in Letters of Ayn Rand. If you’re curious as to whether Ayn has a sentimental side, this letter, where Connie (yes, Connie) asks to borrow $25 for a dress should answer that question. We’ve taken the liberty of bolding the juiciest “Randian” lines and whatever you think of her style, the letter is kind of amazing.Read More →
A family in western Sweden investigating which of them was taking an unusually long shower on Sunday morning was surprised to find to an unexpected guest in the bathroom.
When family members living in the townhouse in the Gothenburg suburb of Hisingen awoke on Sunday morning, the shower was already running, the local Göteborgs-Posten (GP) newspaper reported.
However, as it was common for at least one member of the family to shower in the morning, no one took much notice at first.
But after the shower had been running for several hours, family members decided to investigate who among them may have felt the need for an extended scrubbing.
Much to their shock, they discovered a shoeless young man who was otherwise fully clothed, dripping wet in the shower stall.
“I needed to wake up,” the man said, according to GP.
Under questioning from the family, the man was unable to explain how he had made his way into the family’s home, which showed no signs of having been broken into or otherwise damaged by the showering stranger.
“He was mostly likely under the influence of something. But he wasn’t threatening or unpleasant in any way, almost the opposite,” police spokesperson Stefan Gustafsson told the newspaper.
The astonished family has opted not to report the incident to police, who nevertheless did their part to help the escort the apparently harmless bathing bandit on his way.
This is an email sent to the parents of our church’s children’s choir:
Hi Everyone, Sorry I had to cancel choir rehearsal at the last minute last Thursday. I was having abdominal pain all day and it seemed to be getting a little worse and with all the coughing I had been doing I was wondering if it was the bottom of my lungs so I thought I better get to ER. So I went to St. Anthony’s for a 4 1/2 hour visit to find out it was just a bad case of constipation. Anyhow hope this wasn’t TMI. We will rehearse this week and sing on this Sunday, the 23rd, at the 12pm mass. Thank you for your understanding.
*the names changed to protect the awkward
(submitted by Jeanne)