My mother could be a bit of a loose cannon. When she was in her late seventies, I brought her to live in my little, Southern town. I took her to church most Sundays, and put her in the Sunday School class appropriate for her age.  The members in this class were the pillars of this church, ie the sweetest, most gentle, Southern, Christian ladies you could find, and then there was mom! 

The trouble happened on Mother’s Day one year. The teacher, not knowing any better, said, “let’s go around the room and tell what our mothers meant to us.” Great idea…NOT! After several sweet, heart-felt comments from these soft-spoken ladies, they came to my mother, and BOOM! “My mother was a bitch,” came out of my mom’s mouth! (She apparently learned another cuss word since the sixties). Whisper. Whisper. Whisper. “Did she say what I thought she said?” 

Well, if you bring a loose cannon to the Baptist Church, it will go off occasionally!