Things better left unsaid

We’ve all had those times when something comes out of our mouths that was meant to stay locked away forever. Except of course those things you can’t wait to share with your best friend and only if it’s behind the other persons back. I knew the meatloaf was horrendous and instantly thought meatlump, definitely not meatloaf. But in saying so, and using my most sweetest tone, a cataclysmic chain of events set in motion that made the Big Bang theory look like snap, crackle, pop. Apparently when asked if I liked it, I missed that suttle expression on her face. Men know that look. We have been genetically bred for thousands of years to aim ahead of the fleeing antelope, what formation to use against an attacking tribe, how to keep beer at that perfect temperature. At the top of all our survival instincts is knowing “that look”. That look of pride in knowing something they’ve done is remarkable. That look of, go ahead, say it, I’m awesome. It’s a twitch of the eyebrow, that certain purse of the lips, the look in their eyes. I totally missed it. Damn. And women have remarkable memories. It’s been 12 years since I’ve had meatloaf. I got it at Golden Corral one time and she made me put it back. Yes, we all say things that are better left unsaid. My buddy told me it has happened to him as well. The other night he and his wife were eating dinner and having a casual conversation. He told me, what I meant to say was “honey would you please pass the peas..”, but it came out “you fat cow, you’ve ruined my friggin’ life.” It’s been two weeks now and he’s still on my couch. They’re trying to work it out through counciling.