I, personally, love the way a new word (or newly-remembered word) flows off the tongue…I like to imagine it rolling around in my mouth, waiting for the right opportunity to use it.
And sometimes words simply pop out of my mouth which I haven’t use in YEARS and then I fall in love with the word all over again.
Yes, I am fully aware of the fact that it makes me slightly weird. But it seems inconsequential, given my more than slightly askew sense of humor, don't you think?
But this time, a word came out which I wasn’t anticipating...and it’s not one in which I am enamored. (But, on a side note, “enamored” is a fantastic word and I think I shall try to throw it into a conversation first thing tomorrow.)
So…today the PBA and I were engaged in the big bi-annual “clothing swap”; it’s that “oh-so-fun” event in which clothes trickle down from one sibling to another, and then from the youngest out the door to (hopefully) bless someone in much the same way we have been blessed.
It is a great time to reflect on the way our family has been blessed by the kindness and generosity of others.
But it is also stressful because one never quite knows what will fit by the next drastic change in the weather and what will not.
Always better to error on safety side and keep what MIGHT fit than give it away with lofty expectations of a huge growth spurt.
All that to say, as I was explaining this concept to the 10yo, and why we might keep things which seemed improbable to fit, I said, “You know…it’s all a crapshoot.”
And I realized my filter had apparently been left at the door. Had it been in its proper place, I would N.E.V.E.R. have used a word (voluntarily or otherwise) containing the word “crap” with either member of the PBA, but especially this one.
So I tried to explain what it means. “Craps is a game.”
“It’s a gambling game…you play it with dice.”
“You crap dice?” More, and this time uncontrolled, giggling.
He's the epitome of 10yo boy.
*Sigh* “No, it’s just a game…like someone would play in a casino.”
“Oh…” And some controlled chuckling…no longer loud, gregarious laughing.
We continued on with the process. Every time he held up a pair of pants to see if we thought they would fit in the fall, he uttered, “Well, it’s a crapshoot!”
Clearly he was trying to use the word “crap” (which I have instructed him NOT to use) as often as he could.
“How about that’s enough with that word, ok?”
“OK…” Clearly disappointed that his new vocabulary was being so quickly restricted, he did agree to my terms.
So…what are the chances that he will actually remember by tomorrow morning that he’s not supposed to use that word? I’d say it’s a crapshoot.