It’s not easy to admit, but I have one helluva mouth. Yes, profanity is the fallback of those with a poor vocabulary, yadayadayada, I get it. I also know that my stress levels aren’t going to drop by me switching over to “gollygoshdarn.” I have a very strong filter, and the boys have learned never to repeat anything they ever hear while I’m driving. Or when I’m practicing my flute, especially lately, as it hurts like a <bad word> to play piccolo with severe TMJ.
My brother, however, has a filter that is not quite as advanced. He’s in the Army Reserves, was active military for awhile, his son is still young enough to not understand or repeat what he hears (yet….mwahahahhahaha), and has never set foot in a classroom as a teacher. So his mouth out-mouths mine. We’re a real pair when we get together, yes. He’s gotten better around the boys, but…not…quite.
Several weeks ago we were all up at my parents’ weekend home in Wisconsin. It’s been named Wits End, and yes I named it, because I wanted to be able to say “I’m at Wits End” and mean it, and it’s the perfect weekend hideaway for all of us. And my little brother was describing someone and was about to use a particular word that even I won’t use, stopped by my wild eyes and choked “agh!” The boys, of course, were greatly intrigued by this new forbidden word and only through great effort by everyone in the room was the conversation re-directed.
Ten minutes later I get this text from my brother, sitting across the room:
Needless to say, we are all having an enormous amount of fun with this. A and J truly believe meekrob and mung are the dirtiest swears to exist. My brother and I about pee ourselves with the hilarity of it all. The boys use these nonsense words and I get all Mom Faced and chew them out. They think they’re getting away with something and I get a chuckle nearly every day.
Those boys. They really need to watch their meekrob mouths or I’m going to wash their mouths out with mung.