Foot-N-Mouth Disease

I am one of the millions of people who suffer from Foot-N-Mouth disease, an illness that seems to afflict women more often than men. I first realized I had this problem while hanging out at Rum Punch’s church when we were in high school. A fellow male church member, who I felt was quite easy on the eyes, came over to talk to her about church bizzness. When he left I told Rum P. that I thought he was very attractive, but how difficult his life was going to be because he was soooo short. And no, I did not whisper…that would have been too much like right. So when Rum P. told me that this short sexy fella’s mother was sitting right next to us, I really couldn’t apologize for telling the truth. There was nothing else I could do aside from open my mouth and insert my foot.

Now over the years I think I have learned to control my disease using tact and politeness, at least I hope I have. To have my mom tell it, I have always been very opinionated. But I like to think that when I am dispensing my views to others I think they know I ain’t trying to be mean, just trying to be helpful not hurtful. And usually I prescribe my opinion pills will a spoonful of sugar (usually a smile or a back pat) to help them go down a little bit easier.

But on Sunday I had another flare up of my disease. My new, wise and older male friend has repeatedly expressed dissatisfaction with his job and life after comparing himself with other folks. It is his belief that he should be further along in life. Well ya’ll know how it is when someone you care about keeps talking about the same thing over and over and over again. I mean you care, but you also just want to tell them to poop or just get off the pot already! And since I am not a therapist, but tend to play one in my real life…I gave him a few suggestions on how he could be a better man. Yeah I know. Aside from giving him inspirational stories from the history of Black folks in America a la from slaves to CEOs, I gave my own tale of how I made it…and then I say things like: “Why don’t you…” “You need to…” “Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting something different…” I wasn’t trying to emasculate…but he thought I was wielding a knife in my hand.

And while numerous times he said I was right, I don’t think he was ready to hear what I had to say…especially coming from me, a younger woman he is attracted to, and as a person who hasn’t know him from way back when. I don’t even know the things he’s had to endure or is enduring on a daily basis. And while I was coming from a helpful place, he could have seen me as being mean and critical.

But it wasn’t until my phone call rang twice and went straight to voicemail that I thought that maybe, just possibly my foot had snuck back into my mouth again. And as I wrote my apology text message, that progressively grew into a full fledge email, I realized that I wasn’t sorry for what I said…but moreso if he was hurt by what I said. I guess I’ll know for sure if or when he accepts my apology. So until then, Dr. Amaretto is out of business until her foot can be surgically removed from her mouth…

See You In Seven