Monday, November 16, 2009

Open Mouth Insert Foot.

I have difficulty censoring what I say. Words fall off my lips without my permission, and sometimes, without my knowledge. I won't even realize what I've said until I see people's reaction. Then I have to endure this awkward moment before I ask, "Wait. What just happened? What did I just say?" Then someone will repeat it back to me and I'll want to crawl into a cave. Forever.

Remember meeting your spouse's parents for the first time? I do. It was Christmas at his mother's house and I noticed something like a carved wooden stick in the corner. I thought it was a gag gift. So while surrounded by my future husband's extended family, I thought I'd crack a joke about it. Because that's what I do when I'm nervous. I crack jokes. It's not good.

Here's how this one played out:

I laughed and said, "Oh nice. So who got the stick for Christmas?"

My husband-to-be leaned over to me as everyone witnessed the unraveling of my confidence. "My mother has MS. That's her cane."

Fuck.

Then there was the bowling event with my future husband, his brother and father. I was trying to be helpful when I said, "So, can I help anyone carry their balls for them?"

They all stopped and stared, which made me panic more. I said, "Oh God, not those balls (as I pointed to their crotches), the other balls, you know with ones with holes, I mean the ones you stick your fingers in, I mean the colored balls, the ones that are not attached to your body, the balls that ..."

I cannot believe he had the balls to marry me after committing such verbal crimes to his parents.

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