A Deer and the Headlights

It's amazing how we have learned to adapt to our surroundings. Commuters have learned to convert a boring ride to work into quality time of introspection, laced with a soothing meditation CD and some overpriced coffee. In another effort to tolerate life, we've learned to selectively hear what pleases us most and tune out discomfort, or pretend that the discomfort was on purpose, like Yoga.
To complete our delusion, it was necessary for us to re-invent the meaning of certain words and in other cases to make up brand new ones.
For instance, since 1999, no one can seem to remember the word "conclusion," so we substituted it with "bottom line." We used to say, "Auntie, we've come to the conclusion you're moving to  the old folks home until you die." That was harsh, so now we say, "Auntie, the bottom line is you'll enjoy a better quality of life in a rest care facility while you travel through your golden years."
There's another new word out there now: "misspoke." I tried it out on my husband last night. "Honey, do you remember I told you my truck needs a new headlight? Well, I misspoke. I meant to say that my truck needs a new fender  and a headlight, and someone needs to pluck the deer hair out of the windshield wipers."
"That's ironic," he remarked. "I misspoke when I said I was taking you to dinner."