Fisty Foot Mouth

I would say I have a pretty strong personality and a pretty big mouth. When I was in the 6th grade someone challenged me to see if I could fit my whole fist in my mouth and I could. I used this trick quite often to impress my family and friends. Surprisingly many couldn't do it. I haven't attempted the fist in years, but my foot has found a home inside many times since then.

Because of my outgoing and easily excitable personality, I am definitely one of those people who: dart across the room to greet an old acquaintance, begin in-depth lengthy discussions with the other customers standing in the check-out line, and can pretty much find out all the vital statistics of why every person is also sitting in the waiting room, including height and weight.

For the most part, I am confident. Usually. For the most part I can handle myself well in a variety of contexts and situations. Usually. For the most part I am mature. Usually. Truth be told, much of this I owe to my husband. Over the years he has taught me, by simple gestures such as a slight elbow to the arm meaning "stop while you're ahead" and a slight head shake with down cast disapproving eyes which warn, "might think twice before you continue your verbal brigade." Unfortunately sometimes he is no where to be found and and I am left out on my own without the friendly reminder to look both ways before I cross the street. Sometimes I jump too far out and get hit by a truck.

Like yesterday, at a neighbors party when I asked another neighbor if I could still come to her baby shower even though I forgot to RSVP. She blankly looked at me and said, "I don't know a thing about it. I didn't even know I was having a shower." Resisting the temptation to ask, "Who were you thinking was going to buy you all those items you registered for?" I simply apologized, excused myself, and made my way to the cheese ball.

Or that time I showed up to a friends candle-party a day early. As soon as she opened the door, before she could even speak, I asked her sarcastically, "What are you thinking still wearing your pajamas?" After realizing skimming the invitation at 3am can sometimes changes the words "Saturday" to "Sunday." I bowed out, tail between my legs, put the car in reverse and plowed down the mailbox. Needless to say, I never did find out the actual day of the party.

Or how about that time I was sitting around chatting with a bunch of friends about the church choir and continued going on and on about the woman in the choir who is always jumping up and down and looks like she has the joy of the Lord not only in her heart, but in her hands, feet, hair and every other body part as well. It wasn't until the very strange silent hush finally spoke to me louder than my words that I realized something was amiss. My friend leaned over and said, "That's her mom," while motioning to the new girl sitting across from me at the table. I've looked, but I haven't seen her at church since.

And there was even the one while I was a student teacher. I told my cooperating teacher the sub who was there the day before was on crack, and I quote "like seriously worse than some of the kids, I swear she was higher than a kite." Only to find out later that that same sub just so happened to be her best friends sister--who conveniently also works in the building.

What can I say, I'm working on it. Thankfully my husband hasn't given up on me. I'm sure we'll be 90 years old, sitting at the table, when I'll feel that refreshing nudge ever so slightly attempting to rescue me from myself. Maybe one of these days I'll get it. Maybe.

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Hey, and I just tried to fit my fist in my mouth again...Can't do it for anything and I actually think I just broke a tooth. Hopefully, my foot hasn't gotten bigger, but rather my mouth has shrunk.

Tell the truth...How many of you just read that and actually tried it...Come on fess up.