I guess it’s not just the government who ruins everything.

We’ve had our dog Cooper for about five years. On most days that I have left for work and at other random moments of leaving, I’ve said to Cooper some version of: “OK, Cooper, keep our honey company.”

“See you later, puppy. Keep our honey company.”

“You be a good dog, Coop. Keep our honey company.”

“I hate to go, so you keep our honey company.”

And you get it, right. It’s a habit now. A common part of my day. I do it reflexively, no thought whatsoever. I walk away from the dog … and I say the thing.

Then one day a few weeks ago, in the throes of a fit of verbal dyslexia, I swapped a few letters from two words and created a whole different meaning. It has ruined everything.

I have ruined everything.

To explain how this has happened, while using this visual media, I’ll use the homophones of my new words to better illustrate the degree of my error:

Instead of: “Good boy, Cooper, you keep our honey company.”

I swapped the H and the C and said: “Good boy, Cooper, you keep our cunny hump-iny.”

What!? Eeeeew. Ew. Ew. Ew. No, no, ew. He’s just an innocent doggy. And I can’t take it back. The phrase is now stuck there in my head, (ironically) along with, though second to, the impulse to say the original “keep our honey company” line.

I start out: “Cooper, you keep ou—” and I become conscious of what could go drastically wrong, and I finish with: “Ulghk! Grrrahg! Just be a good boy.”

The halcyon days of my innocence are gone, polluted forever by, well, me. I am seriously in need of a new shtick.

I think it’s possible to have hyperbolic homophonia at: pam[at]viewfromthenorth40.com