I think I'm getting Alzheimer's.
Sometimes I substitute a word that begins with the letter of the word I'm intending to say.
I'll say, "that's rhinocerous," instead of "that's ridiculous."
Or I blurt out "I'm on my way to cheat," instead of, "I'm on my way to church."
That one's kind of embarrassing.
It's like I have a giant, but flawed lexicon in my brain and sometimes the wrong word -- but on the right page -- gets selected and sent to my mouth.
I thought I was the only one who said such strange things. But recently I was talking to my daughter-in-law and she admitted that she sometimes expresses similar, but inappropriate words, too.
Phew!
She's young and a busywife, mother, server at her church, and nurse. Maybe these verbal foul-plays are just a symptom of a brain under the influence of stress.
When our dog, Dudley, was just a pup, I explained to my brother-in-law that the dog was part cocker spaniel and part Jack Daniels, er, I mean Jack Russell. Rich laughed and said "is that why the dog always seems to be dizzy?" I'm not an alcohol guzzler, believe me! Somehow my brain had logged in Jack Daniels ( the strong fire-water) right on the same dictionary page, next to Jack Russell (terrier).
The worst, most embarrassing example of this brain betrayal happened many years ago as I paid a visit to the home of one of the older women in our church.
This very lovely lady was showing me a family picture of her six grown children.
I pointed to the eldest son and said, "Is this the one you said you were going
to bother . . . "
I meant to say, "to Boston next month to visit?
Try to get out of this gaff gracefully.
I turned red and muttered something about how my mouth trips up, and I meant Boston, you see, and, oh dear, and how in the world did that word come out?
People who grew up in the old days of Freud and psychoanalysis would say I'd chosen that word because I secretly considered this kind old lady an annoying, meddling, overly protective mother-in-law.
That's rhinocerous!
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