Yesterday, my friend and her husband drove from Nashville to D.C. Around the four-hour mark, she put up a comment on Facebook commending the fact that her husband had yet to drop an F-bomb during the drive. Shortly after that, she put up a post telling that he’d dropped eleven. At dinner last night, FIL mentioned that I had corrupted my friend. I was indignant. My friend doesn’t swear. I do – profusely - but my friend never cusses. FIL kept insisting that what he’d read was due to my influence that my constant conversations about inappropriate stuff resulted in her post. I didn’t understand. There was lots of back and forth between FIL trying to explain his point and me defending mine while Husband refereed. After a very heated ten minutes, it became clear that we were arguing two different points. And FIL’s argument was that he thought F-bomb meant farting and that he thought that my friend was outing her husband on Facebook as a multiple farter because of me! Because - and he actually said this after much prompting - because I am “always talking about vaginas and penises…”
!!! This totally untrue – well, maybe mostly true during this visit... and on this blog – statement was followed by me saying "fuck" a lot. But only to make a point within my argument about how my friend was not cussing and her husband was not farting and that I never talk about farting unless it’s the dang dog farting and then it’s obviously funny farting and that I don’t always talk about vaginas and penises. A point, by the way, that was totally lost when I said vagina and penis over and over and over again while loudly defending myself. My friend has three-year-old twins who are at the boundary pushing stage. This means one or the other or both are standing in a corner 'taking some time' during multiple times during the day. In fact, the other day, she sent me a text that said, ‘Here’s what is happening in my house…’ and a picture of each twin in a corner. Priceless! I think that something we forget as grown ups, is the need to take some time away from a situation. Time to reflect on what we've done. Or, perhaps to reflect on what we might have said to ones father-in-law or ones husband in the heat of WAY TOO MUCH together time. I think the moment I should have realized I needed a moment might have been when my new friend from Scotland 'shhhhh'd' me as I was relentlessly teasing FIL about the Scottish ladies sitting behind him in the bar. I was trying to get him to ask one of them out. “Go on, FIL, ask them out. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!” And, I didn't stop when he shot me the look or when he moved over to our other friends and asked if they had a spare room he could stay in. Then, when I didn't shhhhhh, my new friend actually told me to leave him alone! Like reprimanded me like a parent does to a child annoying their sibling. I did not leave him alone. He did not ask the ladies out. My new friend was not impressed. Neither was FIL. Perhaps, had I shut-up, had I taken a time-out, I might not have spent Sunday night dropping multiple F-bombs and vagina penis bombs... Which is why I am putting myself on a self imposed time-out today. I will not, like my friends three-year-olds, be standing in a corner because; really all my corners are filthy and that will do make me angry. No, I am going to cover myself in bug spray, go outside and do horrible things to weeds and rocks and stuff until I can conduct myself as a polite human being. And then tonight, I’m going to go out and have drinks with my friend and decompress. If the time-out doesn’t work, the bitching about life is guaranteed to. If not, that corner is totally going to come into play...
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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