so I mis-spoke. kill me.

sunday.

we are home from church and lunch is on it’s way to the table.

ashley asked me to make her a “cootie catcher”, but she didn’t know what to call it, so she called it a “fortune teller”.

as I was trying to correct her, trying to say the right name, I said:

“you mean a coochie catcher.”

that didn’t sound right to me, and as I rolled my last spoken sentence around in my head, I figured out why.  as reaction would have it, my hand flew to my mouth, and I turned back to the open fridge to hide my face so ashley would hopefully not notice my face.

that was not so.

so I tried to cover-up and kept calling it by the far more appropriate name of “cootie catcher”.

but nothing, NOTHING, gets past this kid. 

she kept asking what a “coochie” was.

oh my.

merrill finally got her to believe that it was just jibber-jabber.

but it brought to remembrance another time that I mis-spoke:

it was eighth grade.  we were having dinner as a family, at the table.  my best friend, teresa, was there as well.

the discussion went on about toys.  I started to wonder what toys my dad had as a kid, which prompted me to ask:

“dad, did you have an ERECTION set, growing up?”

after everyone, including my dad had a good laugh, I realized what I had said.

but he still answered me:

“yes I did.  I played with it all the time.”

(more laughter.)

“I meant to say an ERECTOR set.”

“yes, I had one of those too.”

I just hope that ashley doesn’t start experimenting with her new jibber-jabbber word anywhere…

the girls sure do love their “cootie catchers” though.