I started thinking about the fact that there is at least one minor who occasionally visits this blog, so I decided it's not always necessary to use words like H-E-doublehockeysticks and worse. Hence the renaming of my Cuter than **** picture series.
I had a rather Christmas Story upbringing where my mom was the notorious potty mouth of the neighborhood. The funny thing was that I somehow knew I wasn't allowed to use same bad words that flew out her mouth with alarming regularity. I don't even remember being punished or reprimanded or anything - I just knew that those were Mother's Special Words that only she got to use.
With the exception of a brief period when I ran around with some wild 9 year olds (I was 7 and 8), I didn't start using Mother's Special Words until I was in college. Even though I was a pretty good kid most of the time, it wasn't the worst thing in the world not to have June Cleaver for a mother. It was like being given a secret stash of weapons you only had to take out very occasionally, like when you were being bullied.
Speaking of bullies, I found out a few years ago that something terrible happened to one of my childhood nemeses. I'm never happy to hear sad stories, but it stuck me as a reminder of the whole what-goes-around theory.
That's it, good night. Oh, and for anyone who watched the Grammys, I saw Kelly Clarkson win one of her awards and found it odd that she didn't thank her American Idol friends. I didn't see her acceptance speech for "Since You've Been Gone" though - so maybe she thanked them then? Oh no, I feel another entry coming from the Post Traumatic Etiquette Wh*re..... (do I have to change that one too? Maybe I should be Net-Nannied.....)