Originally published November 2005
Writing about my diet experience the other day brought back the memory of an incident I experienced with my wife a number of years ago - which really should be left un-brought-back.
But I can't resist.
One evening we were starting to get in the romantic "mood" and I was really feeling a deep connection with my wife. For some reason, I felt compelled to open my stupid mouth and try to say what I thought was a sweet thing. Knowing that she had been bothered by her weight at the time, I thought it would make her feel good to remind her of why I really loved her. This is what I now refer to as a good intention, bad idea.
"Honey, you know I don't love you for how much you weigh, I love you for who you are."
Suddenly she freezes, eyes wide open.
Immediately buckets of ice water pour down on us from above, air-raid sirens and bullhorns begin blasting through the room. "WONK WONK... Warning, warning, security breach! Back AWAY from your wife!"
Instantly I know l'm screwed (and much more effectively than if the romance had actually continued). Johnny Cochran himself couldn't get me out of this one. "Whoa, I'm sorry man - O.J. only killed someone - this is outta my league!"
All the justification and groveling in the world wasn't going to help me here. In fact, I now know how the original version of Miranda rights were created - not for criminals, but for some poor schmuck who didn't keep his mouth shut in bed.
"You have the right to remain silent. EVERYTHING you say will be wrong and held against you. Period!"