Mom + Volleyball = Embarrassing Moment
Well I can’t really blame my mother but nevertheless read on.
So I was talking to my mom on the phone late last week and she and my dad met these people - blah, blah, blah, small world thing. She asked me if I knew this guy that was their son or grandson . . . I said “no”. My mom said “well you should go play volleyball. When’s the last time you went and played on Sunday night”. She’s not fooling anyone.
Anyway, I went and meet this guy who I then recognized from playing previously; the whole face match name thing. So that was it - but - during the second game, in which his team was opposite mine, I was serve receiving and the back of my gym pants split. A-w-k-w-a-r-d.
Thankfully no one heard or saw but I’m trying to figure out how to gracefully exit. The server, who was this guy, ended up serving out the game - yeah! So I quickly and discreetly made my way over to my stuff and put on my jacket which was long enough to cover the “draft”.
So that’s why I said mom + volleyball = embarrassing moment.

