Foot in the mouth!

I read somewhere, “He opens his mouth only to remove one foot to place the other in!” It struck a chord for I too have this ‘foot in the mouth’ syndrome and sometimes I need a crane to extricate my deeply entrenched foot. There are times when I have taken a few steps back and crash landed with both my feet in the mouth!

My problem is that I talk and I talk. I have this phobia for silence. I somehow don’t believe in pleasant silence, comfortable silence or silence of any sort. To me silence is the most agonising and I feel the need to fill up the void with as many pearls of conversations as possible and indulge in my very own version of deep sea diving.

A few decades ago, during a discussi-on between all us young mothers, I asked a quiet lady in the group to voice her opinion. Her frosty, “I am not married,” was not enough before I ventured that most mothers don’t look their age and hence the error! Till date, I gag over that. 

I met this lady apparently for the second time in an official do. Smiling pleasantly, I introduced myself and waited for her to do the honours. Her icy, “We have already met in the last party and we spoke at length then!” was pretty embarrassing, but I managed to make an inane remark of age catching up and berated myself. I also wondered why I could not use only my smile instead of misusing my tongue if I wanted to be friendly.

Though embarrassing, most people take me for what I am. Maybe, they feel  they should be protective of the person who commits verbal suicide each time she opens her mouth! Surprisingly, there is not much unpleasantness in most of my relationships despite my handicap.

For instance, I was returning from my workplace one fine evening when I noticed that someone had pressed all the buttons in the lift. As it painstakingly made its way to the sixth floor, I remarked to one lady who was about to get into the lift on the second floor, that some idiot kid had pressed all the buttons. Imagine my mortification when she good naturedly said, “Those idiot kids are mine!” We became good friends after I accepted that I was at it again, the foot firmly in the mouth syndrome.

With age, I have learnt to temper this unpleasant nature. It takes a great deal of fortitude on my part to meet silence with another of mine. Sometimes, I am forced to bite my tongue and many a times I am left with a pretty sore mouth. But I am learning. Now, I do it one foot at a time! To my credit, my actions are not malevolent and are devoid of any guile; hence, the handicap has been bearable though more often than not, I wish that I had kept my own counsel.

I had hoped with all sincerity that my children would not inherit this rather discomfiting syndrome, but I am afraid I might end up disappointed for they do have a very effective teacher at home.