Honest Mistake

So imagine this:

It's Sunday evening. You're having a lovely dinner with your family. Conversation is flowing, your aunt is trying to get Sally to eat when all she wants to do is run and bounce off the walls, Uncle Tom is feeding the gabbing baby while awkwardly picking at his own roast beef. Then to everyone's sudden surprise, a girl in a white beanie holding a book and a large bag stuffed with technology comes waltzing through the front door.

Forks are dropped, along with jaws. Sally suddenly stops in her tracks. Looks go furiously from inquisition to "who in the hell..?"

This girl seems torn, face crumpled. Obviously scared and embarrassed. Her steps edge backward as if walking away from a carnivorous canine.

The door shuts.

....

I wonder what conversation ensued after that click of the handle...because...THAT OBLIVIOUS GIRL WAS ME!!!

After sudden fear and complete idiocy, I ravishly laughed while walking down the stairs of the wrong house, as the boys behind me giggled and informed me that they were actually yelling, "this is not my house!"

I just wonder how many years grandpa will be telling stories of, "The girl who busted down our door."

(...as I slap my palm over my forehead...)