Biscuits

I fully embrace my Irish heritage.  I think a misty morning is heavenly.  I think a cold(ish) pint of Guinness is divine.  I think a curse word here and there is not only appropriate, but required.

There is a problem with that last one.  

Jack is a sponge.  And when I say "sponge," I mean little walking, talking person with no filter who likes to repeat every word you say that he can make his mouth form.  

He has not cursed, yet.  To avoid this unfortunate occurrence, I have cut way back on my cursing.  This is hard for me.  So, I had the *brilliant* idea -- or maybe Durel had it -- that we need to replace our curse words with another word that's innocent.  We didn't want anything that sounded too close to the offending word (as in, "fudge" is not an appropriate substitute for the "F" word because it's too close).  

What did we choose?  Biscuit.

Why?  Because!  How can you hate a biscuit?  With all of its buttery carbohydrate loveliness?  You can't.  Even if you hear your parents saying things like this:

• Don't be such a biscuit!
• Oh, BISCUIT!
• I'm telling you -- that butters my biscuit.
• That guy is a rotten old biscuit.

You get the idea.  So far, it's working pretty well.  And we're cracking ourselves up in the process.  

What do you think?  Are you more virtuous than me, so stopping cursing was no problem for you?  Or have you done something creative?  Do you think we're nuts?  (Maybe don't answer that last one.)

With butter and jam, even,

Heather