I grew up, admonished:
'Never take the Lord's name in vain.'
And I giggled, 'or vane or vein.'
I totally knew what was meant
But I was a smarty pants.
And I postulated, to myself, mind you,
'If it makes you feel better, it wasn't in vain, was it?'
I couldn't do anything with 'vein' or 'vane'.
So, I used 'Christmas Cake'!
An excellent splutter of aggravation,
Explosive 'K' sounds like rapid gun fire
And the hiss of 'S' like a riled snake.
A fine spit of irritation
Always followed by a chuckle
Because it was just plain dopey.
And so, of course, balance restored.
Impossible to be both mad and glad
At the same time.
It was almost as satisfying as a swear word,
On the fringe of disrespectful to 'Christmas'.
I suppose, if it served the purpose of a swear word,
It WAS a swear word!
Didn't think of that as a child.
It's still my favourite expletive.
Less offensive than 'Shit'
Which came full throttle with twins!
But I'm improving.
Grandmothers are supposed to set good examples.
Not always successful, but I really do try.