We need a cure

I have suffered from an affliction for several years now, and no cure seems to be in sight. I am talking about Foot-in-Mouth Disease, which is no relation to Hand, Foot and Mouth disease.

This is why I'm awful at small talk. I can say something innocently enough, and it turns out to be a royal social disaster.

Three cases in point:

1)Once I worked at a high school as a drug counselor, and was hired at the start of the school year. Upon discussing a juvenile client, I stated that "when I mentioned his drug problem he almost had an aneurysm." while talking to the vice principal.

Guess who had just had a brain aneurysm six months before? The vice principal.

2) Down at the gym, I was discussing with Amy the new elliptical trainers the gym had gotten, stating that the trainers down at a different gym I frequented were smoother and nicer.

Guess whose husband supplied all the new elliptical trainers for the gym? Amy's.

3) Here's an odd one: While meeting an older acquaintance of an in-law, we were discussing my kids and how wonderful grandkids were. I said, "I've heard grandchildren are a reward for not killing your own children!" Totally in jest.

Guess what? The guy's son had just been jailed. For killing his child. Well, I don't feel too bad about that one, what the heck was that all about?

Anyway, my point is, it is a problem for me! Usually I don't care and it's good to laugh at later, but at the time, in the moment, it's what my daughter would call "Awww-kward!!"

My greatest blunder, however, will go down in infamy:

My very good friend, we will call her Red, had a seemingly wonderful marriage. She and, we will say, Ted, were married for some time when one day she and I went to the mall. Upon returning from our trip, we found Ted wandering the streets. Red pulled up along side, and Ted remarked he was 'thinking'. Ok, whatever.

Only a few days later, Red calls to tell me Ted wants a divorce, that he is not happy. Now, this is seriously coming from NOWHERE. So she cries a bit, but she is a very strong woman, and asks me to come over to help her unpack her stuff to move out.

Well, I go over to their house, and we are actually having fun. Red has come to terms with it, and we are blasting the Bay City Rollers and getting the heck outta dodge. Nothing is sacred.

While cleaning out one of the drawers in the hallway, I found some 'exotic massage oils' and thought I would make light of the situation. (of course, you see where this is going, right? Stupid!)

"Hey, Red, guess you won't be wanting to take these along, huh? Ha ha."

Red takes a close look. "Um, Vajay-jay? Yeah, those ain't mine."

Ohhhhhhhhhhhshit.

One call to Ted and the exotic massage oil is hitting the fan.

So he fesses, and he has been sleeping with a co-worker for weeks now! Yikes! Ted comes back, they fight, she stomps out the door while I wait in the car, shaking my head, wondering what I was thinking. She remembered she wanted something else, and goes back in...only to discover he'd locked the door...so she PUNCHES the glass window to open the door.

I end up taking her to the emergency room, having succeeded in giving her 12 stitches in her hand.

Now THAT my friends, is a bad case.

But...I must say, Red recovered wonderfully and is now married to a super hot, super great guy she met, of all places, on the Internet.

Guess I can take my foot outta my mouth on that one...but I'd better make sure they are clean for the next time...which I'm sure will be soon!