Embarrassment

So, my life is full of embarrassing moments. I am forever running into doorways, slipping and falling in my own puddle of spit (yes, that truly happened, and it will have to be a story for another time), etc. That is just how my life rolls, and I have learned to embrace it.

I did, however, have a new category of embarrassment the other day when I was at the grocery store--a processed cheese embarrassment.

I was asked to prepare food to bring up to the church for a funeral. The plan was for me to bring a dessert and a side dish. I didn't have a whole lot of extra time, and so I wanted to make something super-easy that I knew for sure without a doubt people would like. So, I planned to make a lemon bundt cake and broccoli rice casserole.

Someone on the East Texas side of my family used to make this all the time, and I had eaten it before, and it always tasted good. So, I looked at the ingredients, discovered I had all of them but two, and decided that would work.

So, Monday afternoon I stopped by the store for the two missing ingredients--white rice and cheese whiz...yes, cheese whiz. I walked up and down the aisles and just could not find it. It was then that I actually had to stop and ask a store worker where it was kept. Was it in the cold food section? Was it just on a shelf? There were so many possibilities.

As I was asking the store worker, I noticed that I was whispering. Yes, I apparently was embarrassed to admit that I was not only purchasing this processed cheese product with the unfortunate name, but also that I was actually going to cook with with. My face turned bright read as he yelled to his coworker, "Where's the cheese whiz? This lady needs a jar." (Let's be honest, folks, should cheese come in a jar?)

Anyway, he finally pointed me in the right direction. I secured the necessary amount, and I bolted out of the store. Even with my unnatural fascination with all things orange (e.g. cheese in a squirt can), I hit my embarrassment level with the cheese whiz purchase.