Tag, You're It!

So as a part of the whole "moving and getting to know people" thing that I am doing now, I was invited to a luncheon that I was quite excited to attend. I knew that at least on that day I would not be stuck at home pondering the best method for cleaning baseboards.

I decided that I would need a new outfit for such an event. I figured my jeans and T-shirt could take a break for a few hours. After a little shopping expedition about two weeks ago, I found the perfect pants and shirt that said "not too dressy, not too casual, not trying too hard, put some effort into it." I hung this outfit in my closet and waited for the luncheon day to arrive.

So the morning of the luncheon, I got up and got dressed, carefully pulling the tags off the new clothes, and excitedly left the house. I had a great time. Really, I did. The girls that I met were all very nice, and I left feeling more happy than ever about our relocation.

And then later that day, I felt something on the back thigh of my pants. In horror, I discovered that I still had the sticker which displayed my pants size on the back of my pants.

I wanted to die!

I rehashed the whole luncheon in my mind, and determined that I had spent at least 90% of it sitting down. That was good. And I realized that the tag was not completely obvious (I mean, if it had been, surely I would have seen it myself before I left the house). But I was still horrified.

So I called a friend who was at the luncheon and made her promise me that: a) she hadn't seen it, and b) if she had, she would have told me.

I still worried over it for a few hours. And then I finally decided that I could either worry about it and accomplish nothing, or I could assume that no one saw it and let it go.

I can promise you this....lesson learned. I will inspect new clothes VERY CAREFULLY for hidden tags, stickers, etc.

And I will learn to laugh at myself a little bit more.