The other day, I ran into my minister in the grocery store. We stood and discussed the virtues of the fantastic salads available at our "gourmet" salad bar. "You’re preaching to the choir," I said, meaning, of course, that he didn’t have to convince me, as I bought my salad for dinner.

It was only later that night that I realized that I, a member of the church choir, had spoken that line to my minister. Who, of course, preaches. To me. In the choir. Regularly. It made me giggle to myself. It was such an unintentional but perfect little gem of a moment.

Have you ever heard the expression, "It’s like the blind leading the blind?" Well, my grandmother often told the story of how she used those very words when speaking once to an acquaintance. Who was blind.

Is this gene hereditary, or does this happen to everyone? Are the characteristics and personalities of those around us so heightened that we leap to the nearest cliché without even thinking?

Those who know me will attest to the fact that I suffer from a severe case of foot-in-mouth disease, even on my best day. So much so, in fact, that I have learned to simply say, "I’m sorry. Allow me to remove my foot from my mouth and start over!" Or, "I tend to live most of my life with one foot on the ground and the other in my mouth, so I hope you’ll forgive me."

What’s the expression . . . the one about a glass house? Oh yeah. . . if we live in one, we shouldn’t throw stones. That’s why we forgive each other these moments of imperfection, like my grandmother and the blind man. I’m sure she handled herself with grace and beauty, and I’m sure she was forgiven. And as far as preaching to the choir . . . well, I can only hope for more moments of perfect irony in a grocery store, ones that I couldn’t write any better.

It would be a great accomplishment for me to exist for a decent stretch of time without a questionable comment to look back on, without words that I regret immediately, without apologies needing to be given for things that I have said. But what is the greater sacrifice? To stop this crazy mouth and to begin censoring a little, or just to keep on living out loud, mistakes and all, and ask for forgiveness if required?

Maybe it’s six-of-one, half-a-dozen of the other. . .