Rugrats and Dirty Rugs

There is a phrase that I am fond of repeating. Actually, I have no choice because the reason for my favorite phrase happens on a daily occurrence. I have five sons who scream just to hear themselves do it. It seems to be their favorite pastime. Throughout the day, I am constantly yelling, "Shut up!", or "Stop it!", or "Be quiet!", or when I've really had it, "Shut the *&%$ up!" Well, not really, but that's what I'm thinking by the end of the day while I'm grabbing my hair and pulling what is left of it by the scalp. There are times when I've given a blow-by-blow description of my day to Doc and my usual phrase ends up in the conversation. "He was screaming his ever-lovin' head off!" Again, this is a daily occurrence and I am forever repeating that particular phrase. It's no wonder that Grumpy has picked it up himself. Sneezy was ready for his nap this morning and we all knew it was time because the child ...

Ghastly. I love that word. It's the kind of word that you have to say with an English accent. Ghastly. Every time I hear it or read it, I laugh. I can't seem to help myself. Just the sound of it rolling off my tongue emits giggles out of my mouth. I then wonder how I can use it in my every day life. What would I describe as ghastly? Well, maybe the kitchen floor after dinnertime. Yes. I would say that was ghastly . Or, maybe the bathroom floor around the toilet after the boys have used it. Definitely ghastly . Even possibly, that one time when I was stranded on the road with five children and two flat tires. That was definitely a time that exuded ghastliness. Is that a word? If not, it should be. There are times in my life where that word should be used and laced with scathing sarcasm. I wouldn't be averse to using it as a mild profanity, either. It makes one feel quite brilliant actually when describing a scene that one would call revolting in the extreme. Or just mild...