I have a distinct memory of the first time I ever heard the word "fuck". It was my dad who had said it.

Driving from Cleveland to Florida for a family vacation, we left my mother at a rest stop near Lexington, KY. Now, it was pretty much her fault. We had left at about mid-night so us kids would sleep through a lot of the trip. Big ol' Dodge Sports Van, mom was asleep in the back on an air mattress, snuggled down amongst the luggage. Dad stopped, he and my brothers got out to use the facilitiess. Mom woke up, decided she should go too. Did. Not. Say. A. Word. When she got out of the van. She figured one woman can do faster what three guys can do in two stalls. She did not count on urinals.

She walked out of the ladies room in time to see the family van drive off. Guy in a Gremlin who'd stopped about the same time had locked himself out of his car. By the time Mom worked up the nerve to ask a trucker to try hailing Dad on the CB, he was out of range. Trucker decided best thing for him to do was take her to the Highway Patrol station at the next exit. He kindly allowed my animal-loving (not in a naughty way) mother to ride in the back with the horses.

About an hour later, Dad stopped for breakfast, and sent my older sister to the back of the van to wake Mom. "She's not here," Mindy said.

Dad was bemused to say the least. He got up and went to the back himself, and even looked out the back windows just in case, one supposes, that Mom might be running along behind. Much dismayed, Dad taught me a new word.

When we returned to the rest stop, the Locked Out Guy told Dad where Mom had gone, and Dad returned the favor by using a wire coat hanger to open his car door.

Um...

Did I have a point?

Oh yes, I'm too busy working on sorting stuff for the moving sale to be here.

Andi, that totally kind of happened to us, except it was at the Tandoor and it was my brother. And the restaurant was only a few miles from our house, which is where we realized we'd forgotten him when he went to the restroom. In our defense, we had about a dozen some-odd people with us.

That is hysterical. I would have freaked if I were your mother. Also, we're twinsies in this:

I have a distinct memory of the first time I ever heard the word "fuck". It was my dad who had said it.

He was also driving and someone pulled some shit and he said it. I knew it was bad cause he looked at me like, "Oh damn."

MY mom scolds me mildly when I cuss, especially if "fuck" slips out, but sometimes she gets so irritated (and my mom is a lady) on the road that she'll pop out with a "You..you little fucker!" and it's so CUTE.

LOL. We taught my Mom to swear and its cute when she does it too.

She literally never heard the word fuck until she was in college (though she had seen it in graffitti).

Listening to "Back in the USSR" on the radio, and aware of some movie that features it sung in Russian, I am suddenly struck by a desire to hear it sung in Klingon.

Well, that little mini melt-down I just had was not all that fun.

Oh dear, vw.

It only lasted a little over an hour. That's better than I usually do. This school, work, life thing is a little rough.

Now I'm curious to know how you edit "Shut your fucking face, unclefucker".

"It's quiet time now, Billy."

{{{{{{vw}}}}}}