Lost Crain Bells

posted Sep 8, 2009, 12:02 PM by Alison Roedel
Okay, I recently had a "Runny Babbit" moment, more extreme than any other so far, and when I told my mom this story, she said I needed to post it for all to enjoy.  Bear with me, though, there's a little background story before getting to the funny part.

Side note:  Runny Babbit is "A Billy Sook by Shel Silverstein", the following is the last four lines from the opening poem:  
So if you say "Let's bead a rook
That's billy as can se,"
You're talkin' Runny Babbit talk,
Just like mim and he.

So...I am teaching glass etching at our church's craft day later this month.  At the store, they had several glass bottles to choose from, and I decided on the most basic style bottle that they had plenty of in stock: a simple round-based bottle with a corked mouth and small handle at the neck. After my husband appropriately "oohed" and "aahed" over the samples, I described to him some of the other bottle choices that I liked but weren't as many of available.  My description of several other bottles included the inclusion of a "spour pout" at the mouth, rather than just round like the ones I bought.  I repeated this several times, my husband appearing to be more interested in what I was saying than I would have expected, until finally he stopped me and with a humorous questioning look, said "Spour Pout?"  Now, it's bad enough that I'd already said it 4 or 5 times without noticing myself, but you'd think I'd hear the mistake when it was repeated to me.  However, as brain cells continue to transfer to baby, I simply thought that Mark didn't understand what I was describing.  So, frustrated with his lack of understanding, I expound upon what a "spour pout" is:  you know...a round opening that a cork fits into, but with a triangular shape sticking off one side...  Again, I repeated "spour pout" several times.  Now, Mark is frustrated that I'm talking to him like he's stupid, and humored that I am still trying to describe what he can picture perfectly well, but am not hearing the sound switch.  He finally asks me what the "spour pout" is used for, and as soon as I start to say, "To pour," I realize where he's going.  Needless to say, my explanation of the shopping excursion ended abruptly as I exploded into a humiliated  laughter.  Is that irony, when I thought it was my husband being too dumb to figure out what I was talking about when it ended up being me who was too dumb to say it correctly?
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