Big Wet Mess

You know that moment when you’re sitting at the dinner table, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a sibling struggling to reach across the table for something? And then, once this has been achieved, everything goes into slow motion, and you watch, almost paralyzed as the plate of whatever they wanted  knocks into their glass, and water goes everywhere, creating a big, wet mess.

That’s kinda how my first meeting with my Sunday School co-teacher started off.

The literal big, wet, mess being my lovely roommate, Lizzy, fresh out of the shower, clad only in a towel.

As we walked up to the apartment, this ominous tension seemed to grow and press down on me. On reaching the door, I suddenly had a premonition of the awkwardness soon to follow. Desperately, I thought of how to alert the apartment that a boy was entering. Since I’d been stressing about actually having to teach a lesson for weeks, I could only think of shouting-

“There is a boy here!!!”

Not wanting to make my team teacher uncomfortable, instead, I choose to say, rather hesitantly and loudly—

“Heyy…Lizzy,” using every ounce of my Jedi powers to convey through telekinesis that there was in fact a boy with me.

We didn’t even make it two feet into the hall, until my door swung open, revealing a cheerful, blissfully ignorant half Japanese.

She made it two steps out into the hall, before she saw the distinct shape of someone not female, facing our front door, hands pressed tightly against his eyes.

She yelped, and with her ninja reflexes finally kicking in, sprang back into the room. Her reaction broke my paralysis, and I started laughing. Hard.

Stupidly, I moved in front of the doorway with the intention of protecting her modesty, never mind that my poor team teacher was frozen in place, essentially blind to what was happening. I looked like a cartoon cactus, with my elbows bent at right angles, trying to fill as much space in the door way as possible, and of course, still laughing.

I’m not sure how long we all were like that—Lizzy cowering in some part of the room, me blocking the entrance to our room, and the boy facing resolutely with his back toward us, trying, I imagine, to erase whatever just happened from memory—but finally Lizzy was the first of us to regain her senses, and slammed the door shut.

I called out—“She’s decent, you can turn around,” still stuck in the cactus position in front of our newly closed door, laughing.

I think I laughed off and on the rest of the day.

So moral(s) Of my story:

-Always listen to the Holy Ghost, as he will be sure to save you from uncomfortable situations.

-Make sure to casually inform the roommates when a member of the opposite sex comes over.

-I am not a Jedi, and most definitely do not have telekinetic powers.

-Don’t forget about the door!

-Laughing makes everything better

   
         -Annalee