Ever have one of those moments when you know you just might have gone too far. Or maybe it’s just me because I’m always chewing on my foot. When I was young, I would cross that line and look back a mile later and say, “Crap, was there something I shouldn’t have said?”
There I was, standing in the middle of a ring of women, conducting a bridal shower game. Now some of these women had known me since I was a baby; while, others were my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s friends, which I just met an hour or so before at the beginning of the party. I was conducting the games because I could lead without stepping on any one’s toes. We were playing a game in which everyone had to guess how many questions my sister-in-law would know about my brother, who had answered them the night before. Questions included his favorite food, book, and such. But we had a four-way tie, and I had to break it some how. I had the winners guess if my sister-in-law would get the bonus question.
Me: What was my brother’s doll’s name?
A collective “WHAT?” settled over the room, except for those few women who knew my brother since he was a baby.
K: (didn’t blink) Buddy.
Me: (smiling) No. Not his My Buddy. His first doll. The one he loved.
K: What? He had another doll?
My mom: Actually, he had three. The My Buddy. A Wrestling Buddy. And this one.
K: Then I don’t know. I only knew of Buddy.
Me: You’re going with Buddy then?
Me: It was Paula.
K: I’ve never heard that one.
Me: It was a boy doll, and T was only three or four. But since I had dolls, he had to have one. He begged and begged for one. So that Christmas, one grandma got him a homemade boy doll, which he named Paula. He loved that doll.
Then I remembered I was not alone with K, pouring over embarrassing baby pictures. I was in the middle of ring of women. Many of these women were friends of my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, my boyfriend’s girlfriend. Now they knew he had a boy doll named Paula. Good thing we don’t live in the same house any more.