The Funniest Back-Story of My Life #2

I inherited a great many things from my parents that I'm grateful for: long eyelashes, blue eyes, a sharp sense of humor, a love for the Muppets.

There is one thing that I got from my mom that, at times, is a little harder to deal with.

Long ago, back many generations, one of my female ancestors ticked off some sort of mystical witch doctor, who cursed that ancestor with a terrible, desperate curse that none in my family have been able to escape or reverse.

It is The Curse of Jungle Girl.

Being a Jungle Girl means that you are often surrounded by weird circumstances, spectacular injuries (remind me to tell you sometime about the four times I had to get stiches. All because of the Jungle Girl within), and embarrassing situations. Thank you, Jungle Girl.

Besides the stiches (seriously, spectacular) I have one Jungle Girl moment to beat all others.

Let me just set the scene for you. Someone in my mom's ward had died, and a member of the family, knowing that our family was musical, asked my mom to put together a musical number. My mom asked me and my sister Sarah to sing with her. No prob. I was pregnant at the time, so I was wearing my most comfy, stretchy maternity dress.

We were singing right before the opening prayer, so we decided to sit up by the pulpit and stay up on the stand until after the prayer was done. We sang our song, adding to the lovely spirit that was present, inviting a reverence for the deceased. Since I was the closest to our chairs, when we were done singing I turned and started walking toward them, thinking that my mom would be right behind me.

Oh, she was.

Only, she had decided half-way through our song that we should walk off the stand after our song and sit over to the side. Trying to get my attention, she grabbed the back of my dress to stop me from heading toward the chairs on the stand.

Remember how my dress was stretchy? Well, she grabbed a big chunk of my dress, along with my undershirt and my bra, and pulled them, oh, I'd say a good foot away from my body. When she realized how far it was stretching, she let go, resulting in the loudest bra snap I've ever heard.

Everyone was just waiting for us to get out of the way so the prayer could be given, so it was pin-drop quiet in there. Everyone heard. Everyone saw.

I turned, and my red-faced mother muttered, "Let's sit down there instead." I just nodded and followed. I couldn't speak.

I'm glad it was a long prayer, because my mom, my sister and I sat side-by-side, our shoulders shaking with stifled laughter as tears ran down our cheeks. After the prayer, I excused myself to the foyer to try and contain myself, but it was no use. I laughed all day. I told Rex about it and barely finished the story, laughing the whole time. We laughed as we told my dad. I laugh as I write about it now.

I want to just throw this out there...I'm sorry to the family, for laughing on such a sad day.
But my mom snapped my bra really loud. Sorry!!

Such is the curse of the Jungle Girl. Most instances are less showy, but still as random and embarrassing and hilarious. I don't know what my ancestor did to make that witch doctor mad, but I'll bet it was spectacular.