I have discovered a hidden talent. I do not need to put in any effort. I do not need to plan ahead. I embarrass my teenagers simply by existing. It is a gift.
I used to think embarrassment required effort. You know, showing up at school in pajamas or telling baby stories in front of their friends. Turns out, I was wrong. All I have to do is breathe too loudly or ask a simple question like, “How was your day?” and suddenly I am the most cringeworthy person on the planet.
The easiest way to send them into full-body horror is to wave at them in public. Nothing fancy. Just a polite little hand raise. Apparently, this is unacceptable. If I dare to smile while waving, that is social suicide. If I call out their name, I have committed a crime against teenager dignity.
Singing in the car is another instant embarrassment trigger. It does not matter how good my voice is. It does not matter if I am singing a song they actually like. The moment I start belting out a tune, I hear, “Mom. Stop. Please.” Bonus points if we are at a red light and other people might see.
But nothing, absolutely nothing, humiliates them more than dancing in public. A tiny shoulder shimmy in the grocery store? Devastating. A full spin while holding a shopping basket? Grounds for disowning me.
Honestly, I do not even try to fight it anymore. If I am embarrassing no matter what I do, I might as well have some fun with it. So if you see a woman singing loudly while doing the moonwalk in the frozen food aisle, do not be alarmed. It is just me, living my best life.