Ghastly

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 mildly disgusting.

The word ghastly should be used at all occasions of ghastliness if only to make one feel better.