The definition of irony: A state of affair or a event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.
My famous apple pie story is an ironic event that happened to me. That story tells of a particular one-time situation that’s ironic and amusing. God has used little ironies in my life to teach me things along the way. But what if you have a “life irony”; do they teach anything?
Let me explain: I’m an avid reader and love to write. I collect dictionaries and lexicons. I spend hours revising a story for the right word. I indulge in Jane Austin books for her purple prose as she describes, in an entire chapter, how someone elegantly crosses a room (sigh). But if you’re in conversation with me for any length of time, you will find that I sometimes massacre words, and that I’m mostly not aware or even care.
My youngest daughter Anna has it also. You should hear our conversations together. Anna’s a prolific writer and pumps out professional writing on a daily basis whilst murdering the English language relaying a recipe to me. We have a malady called malapropism. We’re malaprops. There’s no support group.
I wrote this short story about our malady years ago (Anna has since married and has two little girls) in a writing class; I unveil it again to you my gentle readers for your enjoyment. It’s entertaining, it’s amusing, it’s an irony of life. Just another way that God helps us to lighten up on our journey called life. Another ideal way to live.
Call Me Mrs. Malaprop. Save it for later when you’re waiting in the dentist office (I bet you finish it before they call your name); or enjoy it now. It will put a “grit” on your face.
CALL ME MRS. MALAPROP
I have this malady called “malapropism.” One day in my e-mail subscription to Daily Writing Tips, the explanation of my disease was their writing tip of the day. This is how I found out that my chronic verbal abuse of the English language has a legitimate name.
According to Daily Writing Tips: “Sheridan’s 18th century play, The Rivals, featured a hilarious character called Mrs. Malaprop, who was apt to drop a verbal clanger whenever she opened her mouth. Malapropisms are often the same part of speech, begin or end in the same way or have the same rhythm when spoken. It’s where you take a real word and substitute it for another” (Daily Writing Tips/November 17, 2007).
In lay terms, it’s the Norm Crosby syndrome. He’s the comedian who made a career out of malapropism. Known as the King of the Malaprop, who always speaks from his diagram and drinks decapitated coffee.
Now, I’ve never drank decapitated coffee, but I’ve been known to brag and tote my own horn; join a couple and be a third heel. One time, at an outdoor concert, I lamented to a friend as we tried to shield ourselves from the sun, that I wished we were sitting under a camisole.
My husband, who hears malaprops daily, calmly replaces back in the right word after I’ve swapped it out. But sometimes (especially after a long day) I can sneak one past him. For instance, after discussing a serious issue, I concluded the conversation with, “We’ll just have to grit and bear it.” Without skipping a beat, he got up grinning and said, “All right, we’ll try gritting for awhile!”
Evidently, I’ve passed the malaprop gene to my youngest daughter, Anna. Anna is 26 years old and a resident director at a large university. She’s also attending classes toward her Masters Degree in Communications (weird, huh?), and has aspirations to be a motivational speaker (true to myself, I told her I couldn’t be more proud she’s going to be an emotional speaker).
This past Christmas as she was shopping for kitchen towels at Williams Sonoma, she asked the sales lady with all sincerity if she could get the linens mammogramed. The clerk was taken off guard (and maybe hasn’t heard of the disorder?), not knowing what to say. Anna and I have learned that people staring at us dumbfounded means we’ve swapped out a major word!
So thank you Daily Writing Tips for this great “tip.” Thanks for informing us that this every wordsmith’s nightmare has a name! And remember, it’s not all bad. Malapropism can give joy and happiness. It can make parties less stuffy and makes for great fodder around the dinner table. So to all you malaprops out there, verbal clanging to get as close to the intended word as possible—clang on and be counted! Mrs. Malaprop would be proud.