I observe the world as it is.

I imagine how I can tell its story.

I experiment with ways to write it. 

There was a teenager 

He was talking to his girlfriend, who didn’t know his Mom could hear him say, “My Mom is so mean.”

He was sitting on a chair leaning against the wall, on two legs, talking teenage stuff. 

His Mom came in and kicked the chair leg. Looking shocked, he came tumbling down.

With a dumbfounded look, he got up and told his girlfriend, “Gotta go!” 

With a contorted face, he asked his Mom, “What did you do that for?”

“I don’t want you lying to your girlfriend.”

“WHAT?”

“You said that I was a mean Mom. I just wanted to make it a true statement.”

He meekly said sorry, lowered his head, and slowly walked to his room.

Mr. Thompson, my fifth-grade teacher, had a line of students waiting to ask questions.

I remember standing in line, with my eyes fixed on the part of the book where I was confused.

I was forming the question in my mind, and when it was my turn to ask, I started with the word ‘Mom,’ instead of Mr. Thompson.

I remember the boys in the class who started laughing.

Mr. Thompson said firmly, “He is thinking of his Mom.”

The laughter stopped.

Mr. Thompson answered my question, and I returned to my desk.

Some of the guys were still snickering, and I gave them that look we understood as fifth-graders.

“I’m gonna pound you next recess, I promise!”  

After reviewing my medical file, he asked about my elevated cholesterol levels.

I told him that it is coming down because I stopped eating meat three months ago.

Looking away from his computer screen and directly at me, I continued.

I told him that I found out that I'm allergic to meat, and stopped eating meat.

He squinted his eyes and quietly said, "I have never heard of that one before."

I remained silent.

Six months later, on my next visit, I told the doctor, "I found out that I am allergic to French Fries and not meat.

He just looked at me and said, "I'll submit a request for another cholesterol test."

Lesson Learned:

Before blurting out random thoughts, I need to stop and think before my lips start moving.