Seven Layer Burrito

I learned a new word today:  Malapropism.  According to Google it means the usually unintentionally humorous misuse or distortion of a word or phrase especially the use of a word sounding somewhat like the one intended but ludicrously wrong in the context. 

I have an embarrassing problem.  I don't fit well in an airplane seat.  That's not the embarrassing problem--or it shouldn't be embarrassing, nor my problem.  The airlines should be embarrassed about their problem with the lack of space available on commercial flights...I digress.

My problem is that I need a seat belt extender to sit "comfortably" with my seat belt fastened at all times on an airplane.  It took me a long time, and several excruciatingly uncomfortable flights to come to terms with this fact (try cinching your belt up three notches two tight, fold yourself into a laundry basket and attempt to hold still for 3 hours and you'll know what I'm talking about).  It's embarrassing to have to ask for one, even more so if you sit down in your seat, ding your bell, then ask the flight attendant to bring you one, then they forget and have to be reminded again, and so forth.  I've found it's more efficient for everyone if I just ask for one from the smiling attendant when you board the plane.  Here's where the problem comes in.

For some reason my brain to mouth wiring has swapped the three words "Seat Belt Extender" with "Seven Layer Burrito"  and specifically as I board a plane.   I can usually remember the correct phrase anywhere else, and I have never once been tempted to order a seat belt extender from Taco Bell.  But for some reason, every time I step on a plane and look at that smiling flight attendant, my brain wants to ask for a Seven Layer Burrito.  It hasn't actually happened yet.  I usually start rehearsing to myself as I wait to board the plane..."Seat belt extender, seat belt extender seat belt extender, seven--no seat belt extender" and by the time I reach the door, I can say it correctly.   But one of these days it's bound to happen. 

My son takes great delight in this.  I made the mistake of once telling him about my problem.  Now, if I'm flying with him, he grins and repeats to me as we walk down the jetway:  "Seven layer burrito, seven layer burrito, seven layer burrito."  Because he thinks it would be hilarious to watch what the flight attendant does when a fat lady asks for a seven layer burrito. 

I'll be honest, I'm kinda curious myself. 

Malapropism.