Television is a far cry from real life, even reality shows offer warped versions of an experience. Editing can remove context from a comment to make it appear more insulting or rude than intended or mistakes can be hidden with a simple do-over. We all screw up. Sometimes it’s simply a spazzoid moment -I can guarantee the word graceful will not be used in my eulogy unless it’s with a chuckle. Other times mild catastrophes occur through benign neglect or ignorance. Through it all we have admit our mistakes and learn to laugh at ourselves. The Sunday Confessional is a way to recognize that life doesn’t offer do-overs; if we’re to find contentment, we need to find the humor in our shortcomings.
- This week I spent an inordinate amount of time swatting flies and cackling with glee whenever I took out one of the little. . . I never used to be squeamish but flies not only squick me out, they tick me off. I’m worried the toddler may have added a new word to her vocabulary. I’ve cleaned up my language since having kids, but under certain circumstances the line cook comes out.
- I’m having a lot of people over next Sunday. Do you think I’ve done one thing to prepare for this? Of course not, it’s do as Heather says, not as she does.
- Sometimes I hate being female. I’m not a misogynist by any means, I just hate it when I react to feeling humiliated by crying. For some reason it’s worse when someone is nice to me after I’ve been embarrassed. So, if you ever run into me in public when my kids are acting up and you say something nice, don’t be surprised if I only respond with a quick nod. I’m not trying to be rude, I’m trying not to let loose with a big snot-nosed boo hoo. Inside my head, I’m having a There’s No Crying in Baseball moment (Here it is for those who don’t remember and kids, don’t repeat everything Mr. Hanks says):
So, I’m opening the floor to you. What do you have to get off your chest?