“Don’t say that word,” I told the three little boys who were shouting profanities at the chalkboard. The rest of my 4th graders were busily engaged in our classroom activity but there are always a few Ringo Jacks in the group…
“What does it mean?” asked Petr.
For a moment I saw my mom’s big brown eyes softly blinking at me and I heard her telling 10-year old Mary something like, “It’s just not a pretty word.”
Ah, to handle life’s difficult questions with the grace and elegance of my mother.
Unfortunately, I am not my mother.