Some things just roll off my tongue

(Setup for non-Methodists: Pastors in the United Methodist Church spend an average of four years at their parishes before being reassigned.)

I only met my Sainted Southern Mother's pastor once, briefly, at the shindig my parents gave Steve and me three years ago. It was in honor of our wedding and my SSM got to get me back for our boozy reception in a dive bar up here in Raleigh. Her reception in Shallotte was alcohol-free and in their yard.

Pastor Rich came and hung out in the waiting room with My Good Ol' Boy Daddy and me at the hospital as my SSM was undergoing her emergency hip-replacement surgery Monday. Trying to make small talk, I asked him to tell me about the building project at the church. He told me about the new wing and I asked about the current sanctuary -- the one I went to many a service in growing up.

"Is the carpet still green?" I asked.

(Have you ever caught yourself in the middle of a sentence realizing you are saying the exact wrong thing, yet you can't stop yourself from finishing the sentence? My mind was saying, "Noooo!!! You're insulting the preacher and admitting you haven't stepped foot in his church decades!!!" But my mouth wouldn't stop short.)

My face turned 18 shades of red.

"You know, I couldn't really tell you what color the carpet is," he replied.

He goes there every day, so I don't feel bad. In fact, I love knowing that a "man of God" is still just a guy. I bet his wife has to point out when she's had her hair done or remind him to take out the trash. Just like I do with my godless scientist.

All men truly are created equal.