My Mum learned the art of embarrassing from her Mum. Having spent years living with both I have been MORTIFIED more than my fair share.
Like that time I brought friends to visit my Very Smart And Well Spoken Nanny B - they were all on their best behaviour and I was very proud - right up until she told them Steve Redgrave made her clitoris tingle.
Or the time she did a lecture for my 6th form about the dangers of drinks being spiked and date rape - then told my form tutor she was glad I had lectures all afternoon as she was going home for a shag and didn't want me to hear and cramp her style.
You can see how my Mum got so good at it - she learned from the best! So she followed suit spectacularly - like the time I was chatting to a boy I fancied in town and she came over and honked my boobs.
Or the time she told my brother's mate Alan-in-an-anorak that I had fancied him for years and asked if he'd ask me out. (He said no.)
Or the time she told ALL of my brother's friends what size my new bras were.
I've picked up a lot of top tips on how to be a mortifying Mum from the two of them. I used to wonder WHY THEY HATED ME and were so determined to embarrass me so much in front of people, and they were agonisingly embarrassing. But then I had children.
Mine have managed to shame me publicly a number of times.
Like the day my eldest shouted "You are a very fat man - is that a delicious ice cream, fatty?" to a total stranger on a mobility scooter.
Or the time my youngest, who had been sitting peacefully in the trolley as we did our shopping, suddenly pulled down my top and yelled "BIG BIG BOOBIES" as loud as possible just as we got to the crowded tills.
I get it now. Why parents embarrass their teenagers. It's revenge.
I can't wait!