Last post I mentioned a few words that I like. I forgot to mention “quart.” Not “quarter,” just “quart.” I know, bizarre, but true. There are certain words that just sound marvelous to me, and even a mundane one like “quart” can fit the bill.
Then there are the ones that make me laugh. Every damn time I hear one of them. Sometimes I don’t even need to hear the word, I just have to think of it and I get the giggles. The worst culprit for this childish behavior?
Oh, dear gods, it makes me laugh. It wouldn’t be so bad, but one of my students is rather fond of the word and will shout it to the rafters (along with other things fart related, ie; stinky, poopy, and grunt (another giggle-spawner)). This makes for an interesting day at work, believe me.
The other night, Tam and I were in bed, discussing our day. It had been an unpleasant week for both of us, so that quiet, wind down at the end of the day is important. Sometimes, if we go to bed early, it can lead to something…romantic. That night, I was hoping for romance, and it was going great, until we started talking about words. She knows my Achilles heel. Just as I was leaning in for a kiss, she whispered, “fart.”
I got her back, though. We’d planned a romantic weekend at home. Her son was visiting his father, and mine was at work, so we had the place to ourselves. We were going to sort out the living room, then let things progress from there (and yes, we do have a strange sense of romance and foreplay). Those were our plans, but I fixed her wagon, yes indeed.
No, I didn’t fart (and yes, I do giggle every time I write it). Instead, I got sick. It’s very difficult to be romantic towards someone who sounds like the love child of Selma Diamond and Chuckie Finster.
Especially when she’s giggling and sneezing in your face.