3 thoughts on ““Liarrhea””

  1. Oooh. I love words; even these somewhat substandard selections from the ‘urban dictionary’ (your having posted these scrumptious words might just cancel out the whole longest rink debacle . . . ). I’m a bona fide word geek: I own an actual collection of dictionaries (one of which is autographed by Canadian Oxford editor Katherine Barber—yes, I’m a special breed of nerd) and I read them for enjoyment. We have a ‘word of the day’ every day at the day care. Each kid takes a turn randomly selecting a word from the dictionary—then we try to use the word throughout the day. Jason likes to mock the word of the day portion of the day care schedule, especially after the poem incident.

    One evening I was busy getting Eyvi ready for bed. Anna has determined that she deserves a later bedtime due to her 2 years seniority. She can be yawning and head bobbing—literally falling down from exhaustion, but she’ll soldier on for an extra half-hour. All of this is driven purely by her situational commitment to justice. On this particular night she was killing her prize half-hour by drawing pictures at the kitchen table. I had absentmindedly placed a stack of poems on top of the kids’ craft paper. Apparently between drawings Anna read several of them. Jason and I were just nicely tucking in Eyvi when Anna appeared at the door wearing a Cheshire Cat grin. She said, “I read your poems, Mom, and one of them had the word ‘fuck’ in it,” (hope this doesn’t sully your family-oriented blog). Eyvi, shocked and horrified, appeared to be searching my face for an explanation. Without missing a beat, Jason announced, “Hey, what a great new word for word of the day tomorrow. It can be a verb, an adjective, a noun. Think of the possibilities.”

    Eyvi decided my indiscretion gave him cursing carte blanche. The next day he used several other filthy words to test the waters. I ignored it, hoping my non-response would take the thrill out of using profanities. I have to warn you that your credibility as the enforcer of the ‘no swearing’ rule is challenged when your children catch you putting in writing the big mulligan of all swear words. After much debate we settled on a new rule: Foul language can be used if it appears in poetry or any other genre of literature if the piece in question is intended for publication.

    Depending on just how talkative the kids are at school, the teachers might have occasion to hear some pretty concerning stories: Eyvi reads Playboy magazine; Anna wears underpants bearing vulgar inscriptions; Mommy (the family therapist) writes expletives on the craft paper; and Daddy is the founder of Family Texas Hold ’em Night (no cash involved, usually just chocolate and salt & vinegar chips). The Cunninghams we are not.

    I started out talking about loving words. All word lovers should go to http://www.savethewords.com It’s such an awesome website filled with words you have never nor will ever hear or use. If they disappeared I guess no one—myself included—would even notice. But it would be one more nail in the coffin of the English language.

    I really need to resolve this sleep issue. I look as though I just crawled out of a grave. But I’m getting scads of stuff done: The storage space has never been so clean; I’ve finished 30 poems that for months had been in various states of completion; I’ve watched the sun rise dozens of times; I’ve achieved an 8-minute mile on the treadmill; and I have learned exactly what time the street lights turn off. I’m also nurturing a mild drinking situation. And I have discovered that our newspaper carrier drives door-to-door to drop off the papers. Holy lazy batman. I’m not sure he’s truly earned that Timothy’s Christmas gift card. Anyway, my perpetual state of wakefulness hasn’t been a complete waste.

  2. I LOVE it!! Once again Paula, you have made me giggle….let me share this morning’s word with you…. So NanaJ is chilling at the Kanata Vallentyne house, and is waiting for coffee as Cael is eating his breakfast. He is rather ignoring his cereal, and pinching his elbow….not thinking, and not having had any caffeine yet, NanaJ says, honey, quit playing with your weenus (sp??) and eat your cereal……..oh, the reaction!!!! I thougt my grandson was going to cry he laughed so hard, and my son choked, with a way to go Mom, I can just hear the teacher now…… Ah words, ain’t they wonderful!?

  3. That’s a great word! I’ll have to use it to titillate my son—who, like any 7 year old boy, will assume the wrong meaning. He’s had one hand pretty much permanently affixed to his crotch since birth. What is it with boys? I guess they never really change—they just become less obvious!

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