This weekend I went shopping and I watched a girl leave all the clothes she didn’t want in a crumbled mass on the dressing room floor. I really hate littering, and while this isn’t quite the same thing, it’s close enough. Because I’m shy and demure, I chased her down and said “Excuse me, you left something in the dressing room – about fourteen outfits on the floor. Your mother doesn’t work here, so pick up after yourself.” Turns out her mother did work there -- and I was asked to leave. Damn. Me and my big mouth.

Walking out to the car, I stared thinking about all the stupid stuff I’ve said in the past when I should have kept my trap shut. “Those pants make your butt look big. I saw your boyfriend kissing another girl. You should see if you can get your money back for that haircut.” Or worst of all, “I’ll have one more Jello-shot.”

Funny thing is, then I started thinking about all the things I didn’t say, the times I kept my mouth shut. Not telling someone I believed in them, not saying thank you or neglecting to mention how much I loved my grandpa the day he died.

As I got into my car, one of the sales girls ran out of the store and actually thanked me for speaking up. Really? How amazing is that? I’m grateful for my big mouth because while I can reconcile plenty of bad things I’ve said in the past, I can never make up for the things I didn’t say. Oh, in case I haven’t said this before, thank you for reading this blog, I believe in you and I love you. Okay, I guess now I can go back to being offensive.

That’s why I’m grateful for my big mouth.