So, Punky and I were driving home last night from her rehearsals. We were engaged in a very engrossing conversation regarding the show ‘The Walking Dead’. For those who are thinking ‘Surely she doesn’t let Punky watch that,” let me just say: first, don’t call me Surley and second, yes, yes I do. Remember, I’m the inappropriate one! But in all honesty, I watch episodes ahead of her and make her skip the parts that contain sexual content. She’s fully aware that the parts that we are skipping contain sexual content and she is totally OKAY with skipping them. The gory stuff she thinks is totally cool. But I’ve digressed, again. Where were we? Oh, right…..in the car driving home.
I am driving down a road we go down several times a day, chatting away with Punky regarding the language that can be heard on the show. She readily admits that there is nothing she has heard on the show that she hasn’t heard in real life already (i.e. our home – yes, I say bad words). I am using this conversation as a ‘teaching moment’ to explain to her how it is only because she has shown the maturity and responsibility of NOT repeating that kind of language that she is allowed to watch a show that contains that kind of language. I’m going on about how now that she is older, that is how things will continue to go – as she shows us maturity and good decision making skills, she will be granted more and more freedoms or liberties, if you will. It really was a great conversation we were having.
Punky had *just* finished telling me about how when she gets hurts she often says the ‘SH’ word or the ‘SOB’ word in her head, but that she tries very hard to make sure to not say it out loud. I say to her, “Well if you ever slip up you can always just say, ‘Son of a Biscuit eater!’” She giggles at this and I swear to you, her giggles were still floating in the air when out of no where a car runs through a stop sign and I have seconds to do something to avoid T-boning this car and having a *major* accident. By the grace of all that is good in the world, I manage to swerve and skid, literally, (there were marks) my way around hitting this car.
It was as major as it could be without actually hitting the other car, let me tell you. Crap went flying, skid marks were visible on the road, and both Punky and I had adrenaline surges that had us tasting metal in our mouths. Now, the real kick in the pants was I came to a complete halt after barely missing this yahoo in the white car, in part because I wanted to see if everyone (including the yahoo) was all right and because my hands were shaking, my knees were weak, and it was a good thing I was already sitting down. Said yahoo…..yeah, well s/he just kept right on going.
In the silence of the car where nothing could be heard
but the frantic beating of two hearts
Punky says quietly, but with force:
“That Son of a Biscuit Eater!”
The uncontrollable giggles commenced!
That’s *my* girl and thank all that is Holy that she was okay, because if she hadn’t been it would have gotten dramatically inappropriate in the car!