Do you have memories of certain events that perhaps decades later you still recall as potentially being defining moments in your life?

I do, I have several. One of these was when I was thirteen and at the home of my very first love interest, a boy from the neighbourhood. His mother knew of my mother, so she was making friendly conversation with me and asking after her. I recall it being just at the time my mother was first needing to wear glasses.

I was recounting the events of how my mother had just been to see the optimist (sic) and was due to go back a week later to pick up her glasses. I was animated in my storytelling as I felt so grown up to be having this conversation with this boy’s mother. So I mentioned the optimist many times and was puzzled when my boy interest kept giggling and having these knowing glance exchanges with his mother who I recall at one time putting her finger over her lips in that ssshhhhh motion.

I left and went home both elated and puzzled at what might have been happening during this conversation.

The next day, I was in the car with my mum and dad and I mentioned how I had caught up with Mrs Taylor and was explaining how I had been telling her how mum had been to the optimist, when my dad interjected with ‘you mean optometrist?’ And there, in those few seconds, my stomach knotted and my life slipped into deep embarrassment. How could I have been soooooo stupid to not know it was an optometrist and not an optimist?

I then recalled the look of knowing that was being shared between my love interest boy and his mother and wondered why did they not correct me? Why did they smirk and giggle and basically allow me to make an idiot of myself and say nothing?

And here I am thirty odd years later, writing about this event because it is so indelibly etched in my memory as one of those life defining moments.

Now when I see people with their fly un-done, or green gunk stuck in their teeth or suffering bad body odour, I tell them playfully, when appropriate and always respectfully. And you know what? All people are thankful and grateful as I know I would have been had I been picked up for my incorrect word all those years ago and saved the pain of re-living the embarrassment over and over again in my head.

So the moral to this story is courage and compassion. Find the courage to tell the person that is potentially embarrassing themselves so they can rectify the situation and move on, rather than them having to work it out later and re-live the hell for however long it takes to get over it, if indeed it is ever gotten over?