I was three years old and it was the first time I actually remember the feeling of embarrassment. My mom had dragged me out on a shopping trip for something lame like, well, anything that was not toys for me. While my mom was looking at some items against the wall of the store, I was doing what every child does in a boring women's clothing store; hiding inside of the free standing racks of clothes. On the floor under one of the racks I found something really cool. (Ok, it was like a button or something). And I had to go over to my mom and show her my treasure.

I ran up to my mom, whose back was to me, and she was slightly bent over to look at something on one of the lower racks. I was so enthralled by the item in my hand I was not looking at my mom when I started to smack her butt and say, "Mom, Mom, Mom, look what I found! Mom! Mom! Mom!" It was after about the 5th or 6th "Mom" and about the 100th spank on the rear that I heard my ACTUAL Mom say from the other side of the store, "Um, Heather?"

Horror came over me as I looked up at the face of a woman who was not my mom, and then at the hand of mine that had been smacking her ass.