Horrified or mortified?

We headed to the Museum of Science yesterday. Always fun for the kids and certainly entertaining for us. If you aren't aware, Dear Reader, I have a propensity for opening my mouth without thinking. Luckily for me King Daddy finds this endearing, but the public at large, probably not so much.

We walk into the arena of the Museum of Science where there are cars, antique cars, electric cars, solar powered cars and race cars. There is a red race car surrounded by ropes on all four sides with signs posted. The signs read something to the effect of, "Please do not touch car." No need to spell it out as the ropes sort of gave it away. As soon as we walked in I knew that Middle would be beside himself with excitement. I was speechless when I spotted a kid climbing all over this car. Unfortunately the speechlessness didn't last. "Nice. Look at that kid climbing all over that car. It clearly says to keep off."

It happened in slow motion. I swear. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a father moving toward the car. He says, "Oh God," and then retrieves his kid. He grabs his kid, yells at his kid for being on the car. All the air came out of my lungs. My face was immediately purple with embarrassment. "I can't believe they were close enough to hear me say that. I am so embarrassed," I say to King Daddy. "Not as much as that guy, " he says. After he rolls his eyes at me knowing my lack of editing skills. I see the father with his family ascending the escalator, I can't bear to look at them, I know they are pointing in my direction. I am horrified and mortified.

Will I ever learn my lesson? Probably not.