Stinker

When I was growing up, my mother had pretty strict rules about using foul language.

It wasn't nice to say "darn." When she referred to the F word, she meant "fart." (And I'm sure the other one, too.). When she chastised us about using the S word, it wasn't the one that rhymes with "quit." She meant "sucks."

At some point in time, we stopped saying something stinks and started say it sucks. I don't really like that word either, but it's hard to find a grownup sounding replacement. It bites? It blows? It does stink. And it really sucks.

Tonight hubby has a baseball meeting so after practice, he dropped Carter off at confirmation and I picked him up. He seemed fine in the car -- a DQ Blizzard has that effect -- but as soon as we get home, he throws his very full, heavy backpack down and declares, "My life sucks!"

Well, I thought he had a good day since he said his forensics presentation went pretty well. But he was referring to the night to come. A night filled with homework... which he claims will keep him up 'til 11 p.m. I did what I could not to distract him. I kept the TV off. I closed myself off in the "office" and talked to my twin sister on the phone for some 30 or 40 minutes. I went back out in the kitchen and he said he doesn't have anything done.

A quick look around told me he didn't do any cleaning or anything productive, so I'm guessing he was daydreaming, playing with the cat or grumbling to the furniture about how his life sucks.

This is probably not a good time to remind him it will only get harder in high school, then college. Yup, best shut my mouth, go lay down and read... and think about my perfect life of ease.

Or at least thank God for the many things that did not stink today!