The First Awkward Drop-by

Almost every pastor’s wife has a story about when a member dropped by unexpectedly at a really bad time.  We’ve only been here a month and I’ve already created my first awkward drop-by situation.

During the week, I’ve been trying really hard to make myself presentable by 9:00.  This is to give me some semblance of routine and save me the embarrassment of getting caught in my jammies at 3 in the afternoon.  Saturday mornings are a different story.  It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a job so Saturday isn’t really a day off, it doesn’t matter that my husband goes into work on Saturday morning.  I still haven’t lost the schedule that was ingrained in me since grade-school.  Saturday means relax day.  That means I don’t get dressed.

This past Saturday was no different.  It was 9:30, my husband had already left for work and I was merrily surfing the internet while still in my PJs.

To be clear, I was 30 weeks pregnant, so pajamas at this point means a pair of sweatpants that stretch over my ever-expanding belly and one of my husband’s t-shirts.  To be extra clear, my husband is over a foot taller than me, so his t-shirts are still enormous on me despite my pregnancy.  It’s not flattering, but it’s comfy.

prego pjs

The doorbell rang.  I glanced down at myself.  Not presentable at all–I wasn’t even wearing proper undergarments.  However, my husband had left the regular door open when he left for work, so pretending that no one was home wasn’t an option.  Next tactic: Put on a sweatshirt to better cover myself up.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have a sweatshirt in the living room, but my husband did.  I put it on.  It looked more ridiculous than the t-shirt.  Add on my unkempt hair and glasses and I was a tousled mess.

Truth be told, I was hoping that the doorbell signaled the arrival of a package despite the fact it was Saturday.  At least then the delivery person would have dropped off the package and wouldn’t see me.  My hopes were crushed when I approached the door and realized that I congregation member was standing at the door.  Feeling like a sloppy fool, I answered the door in my pregnant, pajama-clad glory.

It turns out that the congregation member was dropping off some sweet corn for us, which was nice.  He also didn’t linger, which was also nice because  I was feeling quite flustered by that point.  I imagine it was awkward for him as well to have me answer the door while still in my PJs.

At any rate, the truth is now in the open:  Sometimes the pastor’s wife lounges around in her pajamas.  But it’s better to lower expectations sooner rather than later, right?

What is your awkward drop-by story?  

 

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7 Comments on “The First Awkward Drop-by”

  1. Heather says:

    My story is exactly the same. If your new congregation is anything like our first one was, it will happen less and less as time goes on and the initial getting to know you part is over. Most of them will not care that you are in your pj’ s no matter the time of day. They’ll love you for you.

  2. Rebekah says:

    One Saturday morning my husband and I were in the bathroom together while our kids were watching tv. I got out of the shower , put on a towel and peeked out to the living room to make sure our kids were still alive. Turns out, there was a man standing in our living room, waiting to talk to my husband. He saw me in my towel. The kids had let him in but hadn’t told us he was there. What can you do?

    • Katrina says:

      Oh, having someone in the house when I get out of the shower is one of my fears! Granted, it was more of a concern on vicarage because the shower was in the basement and the bedroom on the second floor.

      Hopefully you can laugh about this now!

  3. Haha! Been there in so many ways. Gotta laugh about it! 🙂

  4. M says:

    Your story got me laughing. I have been in similar situations several times already, both while pregnant and with a little one.

    On one occasion a parishioner dropped by — unannounced, of course — shortly after my husband left for work one weekday morning. I was in my jammies with an unwashed face, not-yet-brushed teeth, unkempt hair, and was nursing an infant. I saw the car pull up and moments later the doorbell rang. In no fit state to answer the door and engage in small talk, I pretended I wasn’t home. Two things testified to my presence: the car I share with my husband was in the garage and our dog was running frantically around the upstairs barking at the parishioner on the doorstep. To compound my embarrassment, the parishioner kept ringing and waiting.

    And then there was the time when a similarly stubborn/patient parishioner kept ringing the doorbell while I was in the shower…


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