The Incident

Mr. Schmitty and I are lucky enough to have really, REALLY great friends. Our best friends, specifically, well, we'd be lost without them.

Now, to backtrack a bit, the relationship we have with this couple has a history. And before any of you start grinning, get your minds outta the gutter....we don't "SWING" that way.

Mr. Schmitty and Mr. F. have been best friends since they were young children. Their families were close and they pretty much grew up together.

I met Mr. Schmitty the summer before Senior year of high school. I met Mr. F. the same summer, however, on a different occasion. We talked, they talked, we found out we all knew each other, small world, blah, blah, blah.

I then dated Mr. F. for about a year and a half. We attended the Senior Prom together. Mr. Schmitty, who was not only Mr. F's best friend, but had become mine, went to the Senior Prom with MY best girl friend in high school.

We liked to keep each other close.

So, long story short......Mr. F. and I broke up, he dated his now wife, I started dating Mr. Schmitty (but not for quite a few years later), we got married, they got married, we all hung out, Mrs. F. and I became best friends, they had kids, we had kids, they became my son's Godparents, my kid's love their kids, their kid's love mine, blah, blah, blah.

Now? We spend a lot of time together. We are like a big family.

Sometimes though, no matter how close you are to your family, you keep certain things quiet, right? I mean there are plenty of things you wouldn't want whispered about, at say, Thanksgiving dinner.

Get my drift?

I share a lot about the antics of the Schmitty Clan on this blog. Plenty of those things are embarrassing. My motto is, if you can't laugh at yourself, or make fun of your family, what's the point?

I do, however, keep a few topics locked up. You know the saying, "Zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket." I mean my MOTHER reads my blog. There are shenanigans that go on, that I really don't want her reading about. And I'm sure she'd rather not burn her eyes with the details of particular situations in mine and Mr. Schmitty's life.

Be that as it may, there are times when I get together with my best friend, and after the wine begins to pour and pour and pour, there comes a moment that I begin to say too much. I begin to over share.

I believe the terminology is TMI.

Before you know it, the two of us are laughing hysterically like we are twelve years old and I kind of wish I had stopped at that last glass of White Zinfandel. Maybe then I could have kept my trap shut (no pun intended).

I tell her to keep it to herself. I KNOW she won't. I KNOW that she's going to tell her hubby. It's not that I don't trust her or that she's betraying me. It's just that it's too darned funny not to!

Hell, I'd tell Mr. Schmitty if roles were reversed.

The secret that I will not EVER reveal here. I don't care how much you beg and plead, has been dubbed "The Incident".

My friends suggested I write about it on my blog. I don't think they thought I would. Tee Hee.

"The Incident" is brought up in conversation constantly. No matter what is being discussed, one of us will eventually say, "Oh, I thought you were talking about The Incident!" or "Must we always go back to The Incident?"

I'm thinking of trademarking the name, you know, like Mike "The Situation" did.

So, unless I find new best friends, I believe I will be hearing about "The Incident" until I'm 80 years old, whether I want to or not.

As for you who are reading this, just take my advice, never turn your back. You just never know when "The Incident" will sneak up on YOU!