I don’t remember the first time I cried or laughed or felt proud, but I will never forget the first time my daughter gave me a flower. A few days ago, she walked into the room with a big smile on her face and handed me a fragrant freesia. She was so excited to have me smell it.
I will NEVER forget the first time my daughter gave me a flower.
I won a year subscription to Jacquie Lawson (e-cards) from The Prairie Maid. The very first card I sent out was a thank you card to The Prairie Maid and I’m pretty sure I spelled her name wrong! Aaargh!!!
I wrote a post called, Blog is a Four Letter Word. In it I shared blog based curse words. Many others contributed as well. One of the biggest blogabulary contributors was Gregory J from Living My Life, Whatever. He even went so far as to make me this:
Thank you Gregory J, you are one blogtastic, son of a blog! May you blog long and prosper.
The Meatloaf Incident
I’ve been thinking about language a lot lately. There is power in language. Sometimes groups of people reclaim words that were previously used as slurs and turn them into a celebration. Some words are too ugly to be reclaimed.
The other day I met a friend and a lovely little boy that we know at the playground. The little boy appeared to be having a blast when I first got there, but pretty soon he was choking back tears. My friend decided it was time to leave. Later I found out that the reason the little boy was so upset was that he had been called a name.
Before I knew what name the little boy had been called, my mind was reeling thinking of all the possibilities. I was so scared that what was said to him was a racial epithet. It made me so sad to think of him having to deal with these issues at such a young age. I found out that what he had been called was MEATLOAF and I started laughing (don’t worry he wasn’t around).
I mean I’ve been called some pretty awful things and if someone called me a meatloaf I would just have to laugh, but this little boy has not been called horrid things and all he knew was that a group of his peers had used the word as an invective; they meant it to be hurtful and he was hurt.
Language is a trip.
And that’s all she wrote!
Have a great weekend!
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