My life is a series of gaffes and bumbles. And this will probably appear on my headstone. Actually, since I don't want to be pickled and packed in a crate to molder slowly for all eternity (preferring instead, cremation or a green funeral, the details of which would horrify my grandmother), I will not likely have a headstone.
But I digress. On to the gaffes. Several Christmases past I was braying to the relatives about how my ex's grandma gave everyone a Glamour Shot of herself for that holiday. Ex and I felt this was extremely funny, for some reason. So guess what my own grandmother gave everyone that Christmas? Not an hour later? Yep. Framed portraits of herself. This happened again yesterday, and because the wound is so fresh, I'm not yet ready to post the details. But let's just say they involve Wal-Mart and a relative's fresh employment at said retailer.
This has, in fact, been a lifelong habit of mine. Here's an example from my childhood: I answered the phone one morning to learn that my parents' carpool partner wanted to tell my parents she was running late. Not content to simply relay the message, I gleefully responded with, "My dad calls you a Polack!" I think i was 8.
So you see what my private battle has been. Brain vs. Mouth. So far, mouth is winning. But I guess as a writer, I have to cut mouth some slack, because otherwise I'd never write a word for fear of offending someone, somewhere.