We were browsing through the Target shoe department, not looking for anything in particular on one of our family outings. You know, it’s what you do when you have a brood of children, tight budget and a young heart. You peel your sticky children from their car seats, and like a human fog horn, you wander with aimless abandonment through the rows of shiny things until it becomes evident someone is going to get killed by a another family member, so you make your quick exit.

We were only half way through our Target tour; we were functioning at a reasonable decibel, and the store was rather empty, so we were enjoying a snail’s pace. Matt wasn’t interested in women’s shoes, so he broke off from his human fog horns, and wandered across the aisle to the men’s department. I inched my basket full of children along the row of flats, wedges and sandals, lost in my own thought.

I stopped our basket end of the row, and I noticed Matt straight across the main aisle. I paused to wait for Matt to finish in his department before moving on to our next section. That’s when I glanced down and noticed a pair of beat up, dirty flip flops laying in the middle of the row of shoes. Having not seen a single soul since entering the shoe department, I only assumed what any other decent person would assume, who thinks they’re the only person in the shoe department.

I stared at the used up shoes with appall, then to Matt over in the Men’s department, “MATT, SOMEONE LEFT THEIR NASTY OLE SHOES LAYING HERE!”

Confused by my outburst, Matt moved in closer, and I thought it appropriate to clear up the confusion, “SOMEONE STOLE A PAIR OF SHOES AND LEFT THEIR GROSS FLIP FLOPS LAYING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR! RIGHT HERE! LOOK!” I stood pointing at the pitiful pink — slash, brown shoes.

Matt made it to the edge of his side of the aisle. His face was covered with equal appall, but for so many different reasons, “Charity, what are you doing?!”

At that exact moment, from behind me, I heard a sweet, “Excuse me, can I get my shoes?”

I turned and stared at the poor girl. Where did she come from? How long had she left her flip flops laying there while she wandered the shoe department? And how did she sneak up on me like that?!

And since I was gagging on the big toe in my mouth, I just took off running with my cart full of children and a baffled husband trotting behind.

Your turn to link up your embarrassing story. I know you have one, so let us all share in your humiliation, and we’ll all have a good laugh. You have until next Monday to link-up, and be sure to stop by and say hi on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

Next week’s prompt is

If I knew then, what I know now

I’ve learned a lot about parenting in the past eight years. When I first became a mother, I read all the books, so I knew exactly what I was doing. Bless my arrogant little heart. How about you? Have you learned a thing or two when it comes to parenting?