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Can You Die from Embarrassment?

By Susan Schade
 
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I have had plenty of situations where I feel the burning blush creep up the skin on my neck and onto my face. Many of my recent embarrassing situations involve my children and the innocent things they say at inappropriate times.

I was on my way to a Hallmark store with my two boys who, at the time, were four years old and two years old. As I began to unload the younger one out of the car and into the double stroller, I noticed the four-year-old was smiling and waving at an older woman that had parked next to our car. As she began to make her slow journey into the store, I moved to the other side of the car to help my four-year-old out. As I opened the door, my son said, “Mom, look at that lady that was waving at me.” Then he yelled past me in his most bellowing voice, “Hey, I like your snowy white hair!” Horrified, I tried to whisper in his ear, “We don’t comment on people’s appearances. It could hurt feelings.” He dismissed my whispers and continued to say, just as loudly, “But Mom, look at it! It is so cool! It looks just like snow!” I wanted to crouch behind the passenger seat.

Another night at football practice for my six-year-old, I was chasing both my five- year-old and my 19-month-old as they ran in different directions. As the warm Arizona sun begins to set, a chill sets in the air. I am wearing a long sleeved shirt with a light weight jacket and still start to shiver. Then I see my five-year-old, laughing and running just a few feet from me in the park, wearing a short sleeved shirt.

After three unsuccessful attempts to coax him over to put on his sweatshirt, my voice gets serious and my face is stern. I march over to him with the soft sweatshirt draped over my arm. As I reach for him, he darts away chanting, “you can’t catch me!” Now it is a battle of the wills as I catch him and force the sweatshirt over his sweaty head. I turn and calmly walk with the baby, back to where the other parents are watching the practice. My little boy is mad about his defeat. He follows me but not quietly. His teeth are grit together and his face is red with anger. He is making loud, angry grunting noises as we walk.

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We value and respect our HERWriters' experiences, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice, although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.

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