Thursday, July 18, 2013

Foot, meet Mouth.

Foot-- have you met Mouth? Really, you two should be great friends since I seem to put one into the other on a regular basis.

I don't get it. When I moved to DC, making friends was a snap. I was a good listener, a good conversationalist, and was not afraid to be in a crowd because my feet stayed on the floor and my mouth stayed on my face. There was an occasional gaff (You're atheist? But  you're so nice." Please don't think I'm exaggerating. I totally said that to a good friend. She still claims me.)

And then I moved home. And the wheels fell off. Or, maybe they became permanently attached since my foot is served best with a creamy b├ęchamel sauce. In the past few days the following three things come to mind...

(1) I called a woman's baby ugly. No lie. She told me how pretty my baby was and then told me a story about hers. My response to her telling the story of how her daughter had to 'grow into her features' was, "You know, I have always wondered when people have ugly babies... do they know their babies are ugly?"

Really, Wife? REALLY?

(2)  And then I saw someone from my childhood. We have known each other for years, but not someone I have in my cell phone, we are Facebook friends and can carry on a great conversation at parties catching up. He is a really nice guy and everyone knows him. He has nothing bad to say about anyone or anything. 

And I ran into him at a restaurant where we were eating lunch.

"How's Husband?"
"[insert my response here]"
"Did y'all have fun in DC?"
"[insert my response here]"

{please note that he knows my husband's name, that we have spent the past several years in DC, and have had a second child before returning home. He is a great conversationalist.}

"Where are y'all living?"
"Buggy Blvd."
"Where's that?"
"You know where Main Street is? It's right up from that, but a lot nicer."

....crickets chirping....

Mind you, I have no idea (a) where he lives, (b) where he grew up, and (c) WHY IN THE WORLD I SAID THAT because it isn't true.

Foot, I have missed you and how delightful you taste.

(3a and 3b) There are two sisters that live in Hometown. One is a great friend of my SIL. Her husband is a dear friend of Brother's. She is a rock. One of those friends that you need in life, but had no idea how much you needed them until the chips were down. Once, she saw SIL crying and made this loving gesture that was so subtle, I don't think that either even noticed the depth of it. SIL had tears in her eyes and Friend just touched her cheek. The other sister was great a friend of Husband's when he was a resident. She took care of him as much as he took care of her.  When I was giving birth to LMC, Sister had said to Husband, "Let me know when and I will be there. It does not matter what time." 

These girls are good people and I would be lucky to have them as friends.

They look alike. Not identical, they definitely they look like sisters. but, when you have been gone for three years and they are wearing sunglasses and pile on another 10 excuses... you can "easily" get them mixed up. 

I saw the sister that is SIL's dear friend and we were talking. After about a minute and a half, I said, "Wait. You're not [name] you're [name]?" 

Why couldn't I have just kept that to myself and been thankful for her kindness and friendly nature? Why'd I have to say that? She knew me. I should have known her...

And then I saw her recently engaged sister. And again, put my foot right back in it's home. Diamond? Gorgeous! My mouth... yapping about how pretty it is and if dates were set. As if I had never seen a diamond or heard of a wedding before. 

Seriously, Wife. Put those words back in your mouth and stop. talking.

Sheesh... and all of that in the past seven days. I need to get a grip on this foot or at least see how many Weight Watchers point it is. Wish me luck. Making new friends is a lot harder when your foot is eternally, well... you know.

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