I'm sitting in my car, in the parking lot of my tax guy's office, waiting for them to open at 8:30 a.m. How cool is it that I found a wireless signal and am using the Internet? Pretty cool. I almost went back into the house, before I left, to get a book, but then I figured, No, there's a library right close by the tax place... maybe there'll be a signal and I can just read my blogs and check email while I wait. Brilliant, no? It's funny, though. Folks keep arriving to their workplaces (it's a strip-mall kind of office building) and peeking sideways at my car, wondering what I'm up to in here.
I left early to avoid traffic, in case you were wondering. After 8 a.m., you might as well just stay home rather than try to drive anywhere south of my house.
So anyway, I have this whole 23 minutes left before they open (when I will play Over-Enthusiastic Customer and knock on their door RIGHT at 8:30; I'm sure they won't roll their eyes behind my back, haha!), so I thought hey! What better time to blog?
We are in a new era at home -- the no more cursing era. DH, bless his heart, is not doing very well with it so far. He came in last night and started telling me about his workday. "It was all going just fine until M. came in, and then as usual, the Shit really hit the fan..." He stopped. Took a breath. "I mean, the Shoot hit the fan." Heh. It IS time for us to curb our enthusiasm with the curse words -- AJ is a Repeat-A-Word Monkey these days. (If I had said that out loud just now, he would have said, "Mon-ee.") So, Shoot hitting the fan. It doesn't even make sense. But it's funnier! I do applaud DH's valiant effort.
Not five minutes later, however, he said it again when his Blackberry beeped. "Shit," he said, and sighed as the nightly barage of emails from our company's China location began. Luckily AJ was still in the middle of saying "Beep," which he does every time it "rings" (so cute). I think it's going to be quite an effort in our daily language. Not that we're potty mouths, by any means. But you know how it is. The other day I was driving AJ home from daycare and some jerk-wad cut me right off. I was all, "Go right ahead, DUDE." and then I heard from the backseat, my little Echo: "Head, doo!" Hmmm. Better watch that. And some of my favorite words are not such nice ones: stupid (insert noun here)... Damn!... Ah, crap... Those are the main three, really. And when I go banging my kneecap with the fast-moving car door (like I did yesterday, OW), I'm going to have to supress the natural tendancy and say, "Fffffff-ooey" under my breath instead of the alternative. I even started thinking, we ought not to tell the dog, "Move!" quite so often. AJ's going to think it's appropriate to say that to people instead of "Excuse me."
