It's official

I am a klutz.

I can fake grace most of the time (thanks, Mom and Dad, for the big bucks you paid for ten years of ballet lessons), but there are times when the inner klutz shines through.

Today I wore a new outfit to church: knee-length leopard-print skirt, black top, fishnet stockings, and beaded flats. I left the house feeling that "I'm looking good" confidence that every woman should feel the first time she wears something new. While I was teaching the Relief Society lesson (President Hinckley's talk on Forgiveness, a heavy topic, and our class was involved in a very serious, earnest discussion), I felt an itch on my leg, and without thinking, scratched it with my shoe. Just like teenagers whose braces yoke them together during a makeout session, I got stuck, beads in fishnet, leg bent at a weird angle. Of course I was standing in front of the table, and so everyone saw me slip my foot out of the shoe, which stayed stuck to the stockings, dangling from my knee.

As I saw it, I had two choices: leave the shoe hanging for the next fifteen minutes until the end of the lesson, retreat to the bathroom, and save the tights; or tear the shoe from the tights, likely ripping them in the process.

In my shoe, what would you have done?

--originally published 1/22/06