Sometimes you have to consider your audience. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to blurt out something that you think might be funny, especially if it might make someone else unhappy. Sometimes......oh never mind. Sometimes I should just keep my big mouth shut.
Cathie Astle, a girl who grew up around the corner from me (we waited at the bus stop together every day in junior high, along with Carmelle Floyd) just got married for the first time. I am so excited for her! She married another classmate of ours named Shane.
Anyway, we had a bridal shower for her and lots of the girls we grew up with in Providence were there. So, so fun. I had such a great time. My friend Linda, who I also grew up with, came with me and it was just nice to be with the girls and talk about the old days.
Except for one little thing. (One major thing, actually.)
I think I offended Cathie's mom.
Cathie's mom, Charlotte, was visiting with us too, which I enjoyed, and we were all kind of talking about different things in the neighborhood I grew up in.
One thing that we all agreed was a bad thing was the mink farm. My biggest complaint was the stench. If you've never lived anywhere near a mink farm, you have no way to even imagine how rotten those little creatures can smell.
Cathie's mom told us that once a mink got out and got into their rabbits and ate the FEET off of the baby rabbits. I was highly traumetized thinking of this and was trying to tactfully ask what happened to the baby rabbits and if they had to put them to sleep.
I finally worded it in a way that I think wasn't offensive and Cathie's mom told me that the baby rabbits died from their wounds. Well, stupid me, I started connecting in my brain that they died from losing their little rabbit feet and you can pretty much guess my next statement. (It's true, I have no internal editing tool.)
"Oh, so they died because they were unlucky."
When Charlotte gave me a strange look, I didn't figure out it was because she couldn't believe I would say such a thing to her. I just thought she was confused so I tried to explain it to her ("You know, they lost their rabbit feet."), which made it worse.
I was mortified when I realized that she didn't think that was amusing at all. I forgot that these were their family pets I was being so flippant about. I tried to move the subject to those crazy blue and green dyed rabbit feet we used to buy when we were kids (I had a green one), which was the only thing I could think of, but Charlotte still kind of looked at me like I was nuts.
I only felt a little tiny bit better when first Linda very discretely chuckled and then Lisa Fuhriman, a few seats over, giggled just loud enough so I could hear her.
I was glad somebody got my unfortunate sense of humor and vowed, once again, for about the millionth time, to keep my comments to myself.
We'll see how long it lasts this time.