The other day as I was walking into the grocery store with Susan and Spot, a couple in their fifties passed me. The man looked at shivering Spot and said, “Wow, you look really cold.”
What he meant was that I was a bad mother who didn’t care that my kid was freezing and likely to catch her death and never grow up to be a productive member of society, and also that my new haircut was really quite ugly and didn’t I care that my husband actually did prefer it long and that he doesn’t even like my special white chili and neither do my kids, who would rather eat the “orange” macaroni and cheese every day of the week and also that it’s really gross that if someone tried to eat off my kitchen floor they’d choke on the cracker crumbs and get their tongues stuck on the milk-and-cereal glue.
Then, before I could open my mouth to defend myself/tell him to mind his own business, he turned to me suddenly, smiled, and said, “I bet she refused to put on her jacket this morning, huh?”
Reader, I wanted to kiss that man.
Right there in the middle of the no-parking zone in front of the stacked bundles of firewood for sale. Because. That MAN. He gets it.
(Perhaps he cheated by having kids of his own.)
Tonight I said something really stupid to my sister. We had the fam’ over for dinner and a presentation of Susan’s first-ever church talk “I Am Thankful For My Special Bunny . . . and Jesus.”
My sister is sweet and capable and vulnerable, and I said something dumb to her. I wanted to apologize, but didn’t want to risk reminding her of what I’d said, in case she’d forgotten or hadn’t really noticed (which doesn’t make writing about it here a good strategy, but hopefully she’ll accept this public flogging of my flopping lips so I will not have flopped in vain).
Why do I say stupid things? And why do I get all mad when someone else says a stupid thing? Probably they regret it when they have a chance to think it over (if they’re blessed with a stop and reflect gene, anyway).
I have the stop and reflect gene, only, it is just a tad slow, not to mention sometimes out-of-order.
How about you? (And, am I the only one who hears a lot more when a stranger makes an off-the-cuff, sorta-nosy remark?)
Subscribe by email
I love the 2nd paragraph. What all your readers might not know is that you can pull out an awesome paragraph-long run-on sentence like that ANY time at all. In real life. And it will sound just that witty & profound. Or at least that true. I’m so glad I know you IRL. Yes, Jane’s other readers may now commence with the jealous glares in my direction.
Taras last blog post..Saturday night at my house
[Reply]
I liked the run-on sentence, er, paragraph, too. Especially how you just KNEW this guy knew all your worst mommy moments from a comment about your daughter being cold.
But what grabbed my attention was the title, because we quote Thumper.We have a sign on our fridge with Thumper saying “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” (yeah, yeah, I know he actualy says “…don’t say nuthin’ at all,” but I printed off the correct grammar instead.
So let’s see, Thumper recites:
“Greens are such a wonderful treat.
They make long ears and great big feet.”
Then, speaking out of the side of his mouth,
“But they sure are awful stuff to eat.
(I made that last part up myself)”
[Reply]
I’m impressed that you were silent long enough for him to make his second remark. I’m usually ready to defend my mothering skills to the death at a moment’s notice (despite the fact that secretly, most days I know I’m only doing a so-so job) – especially when someone I don’t know takes one look at me and the kiddos and seems to sum up my entire parenthood experience with one crushing squint of the eye.
Lauren Horsleys last blog post..Unpacked
[Reply]
I have to correct myself; I think Thumper actually said, “But they sure are awful things to eat,” instead of “stuff” to eat.
I know, crazy to come back and correct myself, but it was driving me nuts that “stuff” sounded singular and didn’t fit with the sentence, so my brain bugged me until I rememberd the line. Who knows. Maybe I’m still remembering it wrong.
[Reply]
Kimberly — My kids love Bambi, and whenever I protest about how sad it is that Bambi’s mother gets shot and DIES, my (smart-aleck) oldest says, “That’s my favorite part!”
I had to come back and change “bread crumbs” to “cracker crumbs in my post. Thought of that alliteration early this morning (like 3 am).
We’re crazy!
[Reply]
Your stream of consciousness after his comment is awesome. I’m glad it turned out the way it did. Your experience reminds me of the people in Germany who see Mormon families and say, “That’s a lot of children,” when what they mean is, “That’s too many children. Those people are irresponsible and ruining the earth and probably raising their children in poverty and don’t they know what birth control is?”
Michelle Glausers last blog post..Hip Hip Hooray for Health
[Reply]
Don’t we all make more out of others’ comments? I loved this post for the recognition of how we read too much into things juxtaposed with having said the wrong thing to someone else. This was really awesome and introspective. And that honesty? I bet your sister forgives you just for that.
[Reply]
A lot of the time I say things that I am sorry for and the other way around… but I have learned over the years to just let it go… Life is to short to sweat the small stuff right… Now if it’s really big I apologize and if it is someone else that said it I will sometimes talk it over with them… Have a fun filled day
(((HUGS)))
Donna
[Reply]
I am so the same way. I do say dumb things all the time, and feel badly, and reflect on what I should have said…for YEARS! Seriously!
I also get so mad when people butt into my business. Like last year, around Christmas, in Walmart, some lady said my daughter’s eyes were glazed. I still think about what my retort should have been.
So, no, you’re not the only one.
[Reply]
Funny how quick we are to judge when we feel judged–I think it’s self defense.
Paulas last blog post..Emulating Mary and Quest for Simplicity
[Reply]
Yep, I live in Germany. There are so many awesome things about it, but also crazy things, like the fact that I can’t just put a flag up, I have to either go to the post office or walk around the neighborhood searching to send a letter. But who sends letters now anyway?
Michelle Glausers last blog post..Deep-Voiced Lady (More Public Transpo Adventures)
[Reply]
Hey Jane, I decided to subscribe because Dick posted about you and your blog recently, and I’m getting caught up on my feeds again. I like your down-to-earth commentary. Anyway, I definitely have a stop-and-reflect gene, and when I say something stupid and don’t have a chance to apologize, it can bother me for a long time afterward. So I just have to hope that people I’ve possibly offended have forgiven/forgotten.
Bens last blog post..CommentLuv needs updating on this site. Please download the latest version and install it on your site. This message will apear during the first 10 minutes of each hour. This remote script will cease returning posts in 7 days
[Reply]
I still remember a stupid thing I said to another girl at high school in 1989 (and yes, I remember the year). Moments later, I completely regretted it. And still do. Sometimes I even fit both of my size 11 feet in my mouth!
And you’re absolutely not the only person to read more into complete strangers comments. Before M had eye surgery last year, I’d get strangers who weren’t even optometrists, let alone opthamologists, making diagnoses of lazy eye and whatever else in the supermarket. Though none of their comments ever turned around into an “I get it” like this gent at the supermarket did for you.
Kirstys last blog post..BIIIG Girl’s Bed
[Reply]
When I was out and about today I thought of the comment I wanted to give for this post and now it is completely gone. So just so you know it was witty and clever and vaguely approaching “Jane-prose”. Okay, not really, I’ll never be that good. Once again, you’ve said what’s in my head but in a much better way than I ever could.
Okay, enough with the compliments, it may start to get to your head….
I’m not sure a day goes by when I don’t interject a run on paragraph into the thoughts of others aimed directly at me and my millions of faults. So I’m totally with you there. But whenever I start to do that I remind myself of this quote: “We would worry less about what others think of us if we realized how seldom they do.” (don’t know the source, sorry). So chances are when we’re imagining all the horrible things people are thinking about us we should realize they’re probably sitting there doing the same.
Oh, and jealous glares to Tara.
Sharlas last blog post..Book giveaway
[Reply]
That was awesome. I would want to kiss that man, too.
As for that gene, sometimes it can lay dormant. I never used to feel like I had it. I probably said just as many if not more stupid things than you. I’ve been marveling this month over how that’s not such a big problem for me. Three years ago I would have had so many flame wars on my blog by now.
I think that stopping ourselves from saying stupid things is best achieved by stopping ourselves from THINKING them. You have to get to the source of why you think them. What is your belief system that’s causing them?
I know, it was probably a rhetorical question.
Natashas last blog post..CommentLuv needs updating on this site. Please download the latest version and install it on your site. This message will apear during the first 10 minutes of each hour. This remote script will cease returning posts in 7 days
[Reply]
I had something similar a few weeks ago, although in that case the other person who put their foot in their mouth didn’t realize it. I did judge and feel offended at the time, but ended up dealing with it later and getting over it.
In this case we were at a McDonalds play place and a lady asked how old my youngest is. When I told her 20 months, she went “wow he’s so small, my youngest is only a year old and just as big”. At the time I was irritated and thought why would you say something like that to me? The Dr knows he’s small and he’s perfectly healthy, my husband and I were tiny children too!
Then later I realized – she had just watched my son zip back and forth past her little one several times, as her little guy stumbled and toddled along. I bet she thought mine was the same age and felt bad that hers wasn’t walking well whereas mine was jumping, climbing, and basically being a little acrobat. She was just responding to that defensive feeling and realization that her baby wasn’t behind, mine was just quite a bit older! So ah well, forgive and forget
[Reply]
Ah, maybe I was a li’l charitable too because my son was also running and jumping by a year old, not toddling like hers.
It may be easy to be humble when your kids are fabulous geniuses.
ericas last blog post..Mind Mapping and User Experience
[Reply]
When someone dares to say anything to me about my children being underdressed for the weather, I say, “It really is a miracle any of my children survived past infancy having me as a mother.” They usually don’t say much after that.
[Reply]
[...] couple months ago I said something rude to my sister. It didn’t even really make sense, but it was definitely potentially [...]