K A - B O O M ! ! !

What was that?

That was the sound of me shooting myself in the foot.

Why do they let me talk to people? Here at work? The boss is on the phone,his boss is bringing people around for an unscheduled tour... I've been in this scenario before, and it's not pretty.

I start off just answering the questions. But sooner or later, as I develop a rapport with the visitors, I'm gonna make a crack. Crack a joke.

Like just now, when someone said they like my LOL CAT picture, and I said, I've gots lots, I love humor, and the Academic Dean said, tongue-in-cheek, "We don't allow humor here!" And I zinged back with a quick, "No, you don't!"

Ka-BOOM.

Ouch. Why do they let me talk to people?

It's not an "if". It's a "when." When am I going to say something stupid, and how bad will it be?

And it's not even like I didn't have any warning. This morning the first small explosions began when I walked to the front door, and saw that Stepson not only had spent the night sleeping on the livingroom couch, but had enjoyed two cans of root beer there, as evidenced by the empty tins and glass sitting on the floor.

Stepson has terrible personal habits. He regularly stuffs the remains of whatever he's been munching on into the glass he'd been drinking from. He lets the glass fall over, spilling whatever was in it, or breaking during the fall. No amount of yelling to this date has been able to persuade him to A) bring his used cans and glasses to the kitchen, or B) put them on a tabletop as opposed to the floor, or C) sleep in his bed.

The good thing about this particular overnight on the couch was that Stepdaughter had put a sheet down, she slept on the same couch the night before (since her bedroom was undergoing renovations), and so this time the couch did not become encrusted with the sweat, slime and dirt that Stepson carries on his unwashed skin. (Did I mention he has terrible personal habits?)

Well, I went from zero to ballistic in 1 second flat. The rant restarted moments later when I had to step over his underpants on the floor of the bathroom. A few choice words to Hubby to the effect that he HAD TO SAY SOMETHING to his son... then the drive into work. People standing at a bus stop. One young woman with an expression of severe unpleasantness on her face - "Hey honey - wonder why you can't land a MAN with a CAR so you don't have to take the BUS to work? TRY SMILING." Fortunately, I used my "inside voice." Then the well-dressed woman crossing the street at the crosswalk. Hubby will stop for pedestrians at a crosswalk - though if they're not at a crosswalk he considers them fair game, like bowling pins...

Anyway, nobody was stopping for this woman, but Hubby did, and she crossed then, but still kept an unpleasant expression on her face. Hubby's window was open and it wasn't long till my voice sailed after her, "Would it kill you to SMILE???" Oops. Outside Voice.

Days like this, when things start with some transgression by filthy Stepson, never go well. The Outside Voice eventually wins.

But it's often not pretty.