Warning - those of you who have difficulty controlling your gag reflex will want to pass on this post. This post may also be offensive to those with good taste. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Not that this has anything to do with genealogy, more like family relationships, but I’ve been lurking on a blog entitled, “Postcards from Yo Momma.” Seeing the name, I was a little concerned that one of my three darling children may have instigated the blog as I have been know to sign my emails to them, Yo Momma.
Thank goodness, none of my offspring had anything to do with the inception of this website. It was the brainchild of Jessica Grose and Doree Shafrir, who call it a “repository of modern day maternal correspondence.”
If you think all mothers send their children dainty little email missives, you would be dead wrong. Take, for example, the mother who after seeing her child’s school grades, wrote, “What’s wrong with you?” reminding her son that she had, “enough problems, without you adding to them.”
Or how about the mom, 60 years old, who was going to be pole dancing at a wedding shower. She goes on to admonish her child to, “Look for a flask because the booze sit (sec) for the wedding is NONE!”
Ah, yes, motherly love is a wonderful thing.
You should know that some mother’s actually use CURSE words when writing to their children. It’s hard to believe that any child could create such passionate, angry vibes from their maternal parent, but apparently, this happens.
Not that I have ever written anything close to swearing in an email to any of my brood, I’m too smart. I know that anything out there in the written world can come back to bite you – hard!
The closest thing to an off color email I have sent to any of my offspring was a link to a blog post that talked about a large, um, excrement (read poop) problem. I sent this to my middle child for a variety of reasons.
1. When this particular child was a little guy still sleeping in a crib, he became bored waiting for me to come and get him up one morning. His solution to his boredom involved reaching into his diaper and smearing the contents (read poop) all over his face.
By the time I came into his bedroom, all I could see clearly was his right eye. (Do I need to tell you he had pasted the left one shut with his, um, working medium?)
Had he made the same mess on a blanket, stuffed animal or even his crib, there is no doubt in my mind, I would have simply thrown the soiled article out. But one cannot throw out a perfectly good child, now can one?
I won’t tell you exactly how I managed to clean him up. I’m not sure if the statute of limitations has run out on child endangerment even if it has been over three decades. Let’s just say that the boy never sought to alleviate his boredom in this manner again.
2. Maybe owing to his earlier experience, this particular child has always found fecal matter (read poop) humor to be amusing. I blame this on the fact that he apparently inherited the “warped humor” gene from both grandfathers.
Not that either of these gentleman shared this particular brand of humor, but when you combine a WH (warped humor) gene from both the maternal and paternal lines, the result can be a little over the top.
3. For years, I have been the one clucking solemn disapproval at this son’s predilection for excrement humor. I knew he would be shocked that I had sent him the link. Sometimes you just have shake up your adult child’s assumptions about you.
I haven’t seen any excrement references on “Postcards from Yo Momma” but nothing is sacred. So if you are not too easily shocked, can handle the idea that a female parent might occasionally swear, and just want to be sure your child hasn’t sold you out for a brief moment of fame, you will want to check out this website. You should know, it can be addictive!
Until Next Time!
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