Today I recounted to a coworker the story of how, early in my time at Tamarac, I inadvertently sent out release notes containing “personal identifying information” — in regular words, a picture of a feature containing real client data. Needless to say, when the firm whose data I’d inadvertently revealed noticed, they blew their tops. It was ugly. I cried. A lot.
So I was recounting that happy memory to my coworker. He joined our team from “upstairs,” our way of saying he worked in support before joining User Education. The point being he’d been here when my faux pas went down.
And he said, in a tone of astonishment, “That was you?!”
Apparently my little oopsie resonated quite vibrantly upstairs among the support teams. Good thing I didn’t know it at the time. Knowing how widely publicized it was I feel a little embarrassed even now.
Which reminded me of another good humbling moment that happened the other day. I have fairly bad acne on my back, and always deal with zits there. Despite my best efforts, I have some significant scarring on my back and shoulders. I’ve dealt forever with a sense of shame and ugliness from this, but in recent years have just kind of accepted it as part of life — although I still won’t wear sleeveless or backless garments.
One morning recently Benji walked in on me as I was getting dressed and he saw my back. In a very frank tone, he commented, “Wow, that’s a lot of zits!” and then wandered off to play with his stuffed animals. No judgment; just pure analytical observation.
Thanks, kiddo, for helping keep me humble.
I think we have these kinds of moments to help keep us grounded. Just when you start thinking you’re all that — BAM. You stick your foot in your mouth, or your kid reminds you of your all-too-humanness. Good thing, really; I’d hate for my head to get too big for my hats.