Embarrassing: Having not done laundry in so long that the only pair of mismatched socks you can find must be snatched from the dirty laundry hamper. Thinking: "It's not like he's walking. How dirty can the socks be?"
Mortifying: Realizing once you pick up the child after his two hours at the Y that one of the two socks has a stain on it. A suspicious brown stain. Remembering once you get the child back in the car that this particular sock was embracing LO's foot the last time he had a diaper blowout and he felt the need to show off his flexibility.
Humiliating: Forgetting to change the child out of his shit-sock before heading to the synagogue for the second night seder. Deciding to surreptitiously turn his sock inside out during the first bracha and hoping that no one notices you're really not qualified for this job of motherhood.