“If I had a blog, I’d blog about this!” Adventure Man gasped as I held my hand over my mouth in shock.
That is, between whoops of laughter.
Adventure Man asked me if we were going to be on the flight out of Kuwait on which we had been booked. I had just talked with the KLM office in Dubai, seeking a little wasta, and I had been graciously but firmly turned down.
“We’re forked” I said, using a very vulgar word instead of ‘fork.’
“I thought you gave up saying any of those words for Lent?” he hooted.
“No, my goal was no swearing on the roads!” I countered.
And he just gave me that long look that said it all. It said “hypocrite.” It said “I think you’re missing an important point.” It said “bad words are bad words no matter where you use them.”
Adventure Man can get a lot of meaning into one long look. We’ve been married for a long time. He gets the same look from me now and then, the long look.
He had me; he was right, I was wrong.
I started snickering. He started hooting. I laughed out loud. He laughed louder. Soon I was writhing on the floor and he was gasping for breath. It’s good to laugh like that every now and then.
And he’s right. It’s not just on the road. Bad language is bad language and I want to clean up the entire act. I am really really glad Adventure Man doesn’t have his own blog.