I could say those words every minute of the day today and I don’t think it would properly convey to you the humiliation I feel right now. Hell, I could tattoo those words across my forehead, take a picture of myself, make t-shirts out of that picture, and never wear anything but those t-shirts for the rest of my life and I STILL don’t think you’d understand exactly how embarrassed I am right now.
Let me start at the beginning.
I went to go nurse NikkiZ around 10am. When I got to my car, I saw I needed gas, so I went to the gas station first. While the gas was pumping, I ran in to buy a granola bar for a snack. I came out, saw the pump had stopped, saw my receipt had been printed, and pulled the hose out of the car. When I turned to hang the hose back up, one last burst of gasoline jumped out of the nozzle all over both my shoes and my pants.
I knew I would need to go home and change because I probably stunk pretty bad. Unfortunately, I live about 30 minutes from where I work, and NikkiZ was hungry. So, I decided to go feed her a little bit to hold her over, and then run home and change. I decided to leave my shoes in the car, since they had sustained most of the damage, and walked into the daycare. I walked past the front desk, smiled at the lady, and walked directly into NikkiZ’s class.
“I’m going to go ahead and apologize for my smell. I spilled gas on myself and need to change but thought I’d come feed her first since I live so far away.”
The teacher had no problem with this and smiled at me as I walked past her to get NikkiZ. Then, she was like “GIRL! You do smell!” and one of the babies started crying. I told her I would step out the door onto the playground to nurse NikkiZ quickly before I ran home to change. I sat down in the grass and was just thinking about how much I should nurse to hold her over for an hour or so when the cook ran outside.
When she opened the door to the outside and yelled “Come on! Everyone has to get out of the building!” I noticed there was a siren going off and lights were flashing. She and NikkiZ’s teacher were wheeling cribs out of the building along with the babies across the hall. NikkiZ’s teacher and I were trying to hear what was going on when someone said the fateful words:
“We think there’s a gas leak in the building.”
NikkiZ’s teacher and I made contact and I mouthed, “Thats ME that they’re talking about.” We immediately started reassuring everyone that there wasn’t a leak, that I was just covered in gasoline.
Like that makes ANY more sense.
We get all the babies and teachers outside and I explained to them all (including the owner) what happened and why they smelled gasoline. I was almost in tears I felt SO bad. I kept saying, “I’m sorry! I’m SOOO sorry!” They were reassuring me that everything was okay, no big deal, they needed a drill anyway. To be fair, I may have done them a favour because it really is so important to know exactly what to do when you smell gas in a building. Evidently? When the alarm is triggered (which someone had triggered it when they smelled the gas) it automatically calls the fire department. Lo and behold, there they were. The fire trucks pulling into the parking lot as we were all standing there with screaming babies and freaked out teachers.
Oh, the babies. They were ALL screaming. Half of them were evidently napping on cots and had to be yanked up and thrown into cribs to allow that they be wheeled out as quickly as possible. Then, there were the babies in NikkiZ’s class who were crying because they smelled me and I STUNK.
See? I didn’t quite realize how bad I smelled until someone from the back of the building said, “Yeah – I smelled the gas smell and then started feeling dizzy.”
I’ve since been home, cleaned myself up, and changed clothes. I also had to go back to the daycare to nurse NikkiZ the rest of her meal, since she had only gotten part of it. All of the teachers laughed when I walked in and I could hear several others talking about it down the hall. I’m foreseeing a newsletter to the parents explaining that the fire department had been called, and that they didn’t need to worry.
It seems that one of our parents thought it would be smart to come nurse her daughter while being soaked in gasoline.
That’s me. Who wants to bet I’ll get some sort of nickname out of this one? They may not tell me to my face, but I can almost guarantee they’ll have one for me behind my back.
And in case you’re wondering? I still smell gasoline. I probably will be smelling it for days. The smell won’t last as long as the humiliation though, that I can guarantee.