Verbal Slippages

My Mom was pretty strict when it came to many things, but she really hated to hear curse words coming out of our little boy mouths. 

Even the word ‘Geez” was considered to be a variation of taking the Lords name in vain. “Holy Cow” seemed to be okay for some reason. At least she never said anything about that one. “Fart” was a definite no no. We were supposed to say “passing gas”. 

Actually, we weren’t supposed to even talk about that, but if we did, that was the preferred phrase. I don’t know anyone then or now, who says “Oops, I just passed gas!” 

Lets face it, usually you say “Geez! That damn dog farted again!” 

But we knew if we said the wrong word at the wrong time, we could bet our mouth was going to get cleaned up with soap. Yuckeroo!

One time we were being forced to get ready for Church again. We were going through the usual sharing of the bathroom and trying to find our good Sunday clothes from the back of the closet. I was in a really bad mood and was dragging more than usual. 

As it got closer to time to go, my mood seemed to get worse. Nothing was going right. My shoe laces had knots in them. I had trouble finding a shirt that was spot free and unwrinkled enough, and yet still had a neck big enough not to choke the living crap out of me. 

When my Dad yelled back to me to tell me to hurry up for the fiftieth time, My anger couldn’t contain itself any longer, and I blurted out at the top of my lungs “I can’t find my Damn tie!”

The world stopped for just a moment. 

The only sound I could hear was my brothers jaw dropping open, and it was very quiet. I could feel my heart drop to my stomach and my stomach drop to my knees to make room for it. My knees got wobbly as I waited for the wrath of God, or at least my Dad, to descend upon me. 

No lightning bolts came down to smite me, even though my brother stepped back as far as he could to allow for it. 

Usually when we did something really bad, my Dad would take his belt off, fold it in half, and snap it as he came down the hall. It was a dreadful sound that made your ass smart...

...no matter what dumb thing it just got caught doing.

Apparently he didn’t want to be bothered redressing either. He opened our door and quietly asked “What did you say?”

Now, even though the door was closed, I knew he knew exactly what I said. Heck, I was sure the neighbors down the block knew exactly what I said. I had sure yelled it loud enough. I repeated exactly what I said, but very sheepishly this time. I am sure the fear was quite evident in my voice.

All he said was “I think you really need to go to church. Now.”  I think he was trying to stifle a smirk or a laugh when he closed the door. I quickly found a tie that wasn’t good enough a few minutes ago and clipped it on. I ran to the car to find everybody waiting for me. Very quietly.

I got in and never said a word. I was quite amiable the rest of that day. The sermon must have been on forgiveness, because nothing else was ever said about my damn Sunday outburst.

Have you ever had a "verbal slippage" that you instantly realized you should not have uttered?