Because pg 4 10-3-19

Unless you are a person whose hands are made of a super sticky substance, you drop things, in various places, at various times, sometimes, in front of various people.
We ALL do and, depending upon what it is that we drop and its value to us, we usually need to pick-it-up!  We have all been there; dropping something that seems to magically roll or fall or slide to someplace hidden or unobtainable or unreachable, requiring a stick or a broom or asking someone to move, in order to retrieve the object.
The worst is when you inadvertently end up putting a part of your body in front of someone else while bending over.  If the dropped object is edible and ends up on a dirty floor under a table, I usually leave it there, but then I feel badly, and, not wanting to litter OR create more of a mess for someone else to clean, I usually slide myself under the table, trying to quietly grab the piece of food I dropped. But, more often than not, I end up bringing unwanted and embarrassing attention to myself. 
I will freely admit that, on a regular basis, I drop things.  Typically, these moments are rather unremarkable; however, one particular occasion I happened to be sitting in a meeting with about a half dozen gentlemen when I felt a tickle in my throat.  I quietly reached down into my purse, unwrapped a hard candy, and attempted to pop it into my mouth.  Unfortunately, I missed and dropped it, right into the opening of my blouse, directly below my neck.  Yes. It landed in my bra.  I was slightly horrified, thinking someone saw me.  No one did, but my conundrum followed and since I was no longer listening to what anyone else was saying in the room, I began focusing on any opportunity I might have for search and rescue of my candy.
I quickly and sneakily, looked down into my shirt to see exactly where the candy was lodged.  I could not see it, which meant that any shot at retrieval meant fishing around down there, in front of a room of men I wanted to take me seriously.  I decided not to risk it.  Unfortunately, again, my panic started to elevate my body temperature and I started to slightly perspire, causing my hard candy to begin to melt and get sticky.  The candy was red and white, with the red being predominate.  My blouse was white.  I feared the worst if I left the candy alone.  So, I did what any intelligent girl would do: I quietly excused myself to the rest room, making sure that I stood with as little movement as possible, so as not to dislodge my unwanted passenger.
Once in the safety and solace of the bathroom, I was able to fish out my candy, and, with a quick swipe of a damp paper towel, leave little to no trace of my mishap.  Breathing in a deep sigh of relief, I noticed that the tickle in my throat returned.  I had forgotten to bring my purse into the bathroom with me…  I quietly reentered the meeting room and, very discreetly, fished out of my purse, another hard candy.  This time, and with great focus, I unwrapped the candy and placed it successfully in my mouth!
Oops! Oops!
Kathy Naumann, possessor of NATURALLY curly hair and the understanding that you can’t control everything!


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