Foot-In-Mouth Disease


Stuff my dog taught me

foot-in-mouthI suffer from Foot-in-Mouth disease. There is no cure. Symptoms worsen when I am tired, or over-worked, or have had 2+ glasses of wine. And the condition is exasperated by my genetic inability to make small talk.

I live in a neighbourhood where everyone has mastered the art of chatting about nothing (except me). At social gatherings, people benignly talk about tennis, skiing, or power walking for hours on end, and ex-spouses smile politely while sharing living room space with their new lovers.   Sometimes I can make it work for short periods of time, especially if my husband stays nearby to steer my conversations back into the shallows when they start to drift into murky seas. He is the Picasso of small talk.

But even after 30 years together, none of his upper-middle-class social skills have rubbed off on me. That’s how I know my condition is incurable.

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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