Bring the Profanity (Warning: Explicit language)

There has been much in the news of late about how Americans are living in an “Age of Profanity.” Is this a bad thing, I ask? If you don’t hear profanity on a regular basis and understand it, you would be…my in-laws.

For example, Wilma and I were talking about showers vs baths. She said she prefers baths because, she chirped, “it makes it easier to wash your twat.”

(This was reminiscent of Karen warning Arzaana-fay that if she wore that miniskirt she needed to be careful not to give everyone a “beaver shot.” Mr. Wonderful and I projectile-snorted our dinner out our noses. “Wha!” she cried outraged. “That’s what it’s CALLED.” )

“Um, Wilma” I said, “You know you can’t say that.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Um, well, because it’s Not Nice.” Surreal, I thought, I’m lecturing my pure and innocent mother-in-law.

Clearly I was wrong, because “Ken calls it my twat.”

Yeah, well, Ken was in the Navy. Then we got in to a debate about what it should be called (“Vagina!” she gasped “I couldn’t say that. I like twat.”) and I failed to convince her.