The Mark Twain Seal of Approval

We are finishing our basement, which is neither here nor there.
And I title things for my own amusement. Sorry they very rarely make sense.

I had a moment today when I smiled and thought to myself,

"Awww...I'm finally growing up."

If growing up means using a toddler-esque phrase in place of a curse word.

And it does.

I think.

Or it could just be that I am very morbidly sleep deprived.

(what is it about paint colors and tile samples and the smell of lung cancer-inducing dry wall dust that gets my imagination so wound up I can't sleep?)

Anyway, I went to get a very huge load of wash out of the dryer, and the first thing my hand closed around was a tube of chapstick.

I groaned through very gritted teeth.

And said,

"Ooooooh, stink hole."

Very slow and drawn-out.

And then immediately giggled.

Cause, what?!

Where did that come from?

No matter from whence it sprang, I am counting it as progress!

Maybe my subconscious has had it with my conscious. 

It knows I can't set goals and reach them.

So it decided to take my swearing habit into its own very hypothetical hands.

And, I must say, it's doing a damn good job.