Big Britches

Today I chose my skinny black pants.  My daughter and I had Thanksgiving plans and as I readied myself for the event I contemplated the britches I stepped in one foot at a time.   Have you ever been told you’re too big for your britches?   I remember hearing it thrown around once or twice during my childhood.  In fact, Mama served it like turkey on a platter for me throughout my haughty teen years.    The promise of “taking me down a notch or two”, always acted as caboose and followed this redundant question.  I never once answered the question.  Gut instinct or good ole common sense convinced me to keep my mouth shut.  Intrinsically, I knew no reply was expected.  I also knew that I should drop my big britches attitude and quickly slip into my “little britches that could”….and better…obey manner!  My Mama was known for her humility and kindness but she was no doormat.   Beneath her calm exterior was the makings of a strong fiery woman who could (and did many a time) take on the entire world!

As much as I value the lessons learned from Mama, I confess there are times I digress and once again become too damn big for my britches!  During those times my jaws become unhinged and I say things I later regret.  Once they’re out of my mouth I instantly wish I could turn into Pac Man and greedily gobble up the junk before it pollutes the ears around me.   Once the air has been soiled by gossip there is no amount of Ivory Soap that can wash it clean.  Yes, it stinks and it stinks like a silent fart. However, in the case of the silent fart, we may think we know the culprit but, at best, it’s almost always a dubious call.   Not so with the words that comes from our mouth.  We’ve all been on the pointed end of hateful words and yes, they ARE sharper than ANY two edged sword.  They cut right to the soul.  Our soul bleeds.  Our soul hurts.  Our soul heals.  Sometimes our soul even becomes stronger but because of the scars left behind they are never the same.  Buddha once said, “Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.”

Today, Beth and I ate Thanksgiving dinner together.  The words were kind and thankful.  The turkey was moist, the dressing… savory, the potatoes…creamy, the cranberry sauce…sweet, the deserts… rich and the wine…plentiful.  We ate our fill and then some!  Thank God, the pants I chose earlier were sown with stretchy threads!  If not, I fear, I would have become…once again… too damn big for my britches!