I have one rule that I live by. It is the cardinal rule (sometimes).
Don't cry in public.
I know this is a silly rule, but when I cry, my face scrunches like the back end of a dog and and I spurt out fluid involuntarily. I make few exceptions. For instance, I'll cry in front of you if you are married to me, blood related or... you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's a good thing that I am not normally a weepy person or highly emotional. The mere thought of breaking out in a full on public blubber freaks me into a stoic state.
Cue Hindenburg moment.
Our family was asked to speak in church. I am usually not okay with this, but accepted anyway. I had the full force of the hubs and sons behind me to fill up talk time (to which they did, fantastically). I should have gotten out of there unscathed.
The gas filled the balloon....
Our topic was on families and building strong familial relationships. Not a bad topic. I love my family, I mother my sons to within an inch of their lives AND I figured I would plagiarize the heck out of written works of those who know more than I do. All I had to do was stand up, read the words into the microphone thingy and sit down.
...and the balloon commenced lift off.
There is something about family that gets under my skin. I came from a fairly weird one. We're all a little...odd. Odd and loud and a slightly obnoxious. We all had it rough growing up, but we all emerged with a semblance of a sense of humor, albeit twisted and completely off color. So, really, it's kind of my family's fault for the explosion. Sort of.
The Hindenburg attained a stately presence in the sky before...
I began reading my paper. The words made too much sense. Especially when I made the fatal mistake of adding my dad into one of my examples of how to not be a parent right in line with the importance of spending quality time with your kids. Bad.
At first it was just a small fire that erupted on the deck.
I felt a pause was in order. I took a deep breath and then the floodgates could not hold back the watery mass. I friggin' lost it.
We're talking blubber central. Teary waterfall. Hiccuping. A snort. Runny nose. I was sure I had broken out in fiery red blotches and my voice broke like a teenaged boy hitting puberty. It was beyond epic fail. Like the Hindenburg, I made the crashing descent to earth in a verbal rush, packing an entire page of content into 60 seconds. I doubt I was intelligible.
Therefore... I broke the rule. Destroyed it actually.