Oh those embarrassing moments...

The human mind is a funny thing. If you are like me, you can't remember dates or names, but you can remember a good story...or an embarrassing moment.

Over the years, I've had trouble with pants. The first time was in seventh grade. I was sitting in front of Rochelle Satterthwait in Miss Nelson's English class when I bent over to pick something up and my pants split. I don't remember much more but I remember the moment they split. I thought they made a ripping sound loud enough to raise the dead.

About the same time, only in August because it was my sister Susan's wedding, I dropped something in the crotch of my pants. I don't remember what it was, but I remember it stained my light green pants. So I spent most of the rest of the time with my hands crossed in my lap.

Then there was an annual meeting in Grass Range, Montana, when I worked for Mid-Rivers Telephone Cooperative. I drove a little yellow car from Glendive to Grass Range to attend the meeting. To my surprise, I received an award for community service from the co-op. However, before I had to go in front of the small crowd to accept my award, my pants again split...just like I was in seventh grade. But not to worry...my pants fiasco was minor compared to the director of the cooperative whose chair fell off the crowded podium. Still I remember driving back along the barren eastern Montana landscape by Jordan with a hole in my pants...and my award sitting in the passenger's chair.

So why do these memories come to mind? Because today, right before I had to leave for the North Dakota capitol for a meeting in the governor's conference room, I went to the bathroom at my office -- as men my age are accustomed to doing. Anyway, my pants didn't split, but the button that held them together broke off. The thread didn't come out, the button broke in the middle.

I had no time to go home and change pants, but I did have time to ask for safety pin. A lady who used to work in our office before I worked here had "willed" the company a small box of pins and safety pins. But I couldn't get the safety pin to work. No matter how I struggled, I couldn't work the safety pin into two layers of pants. So instead, I cinched my belt real tight, went over to the capitol and attended my meeting. No one was the wiser.

Still, the next time I'm called to the governor's conference room, you can bet that I'll remember the day -- today -- when my button broke on my pants.

Luckily, those little embarrassing moments do serve a purpose....they give me something to write about on my blog.