oh! for the love of biscuits!
“oh, for the love of biscuits”!
This is something that seems to come out of my mouth on a regular basis. No longer a gypsy at heart, my vintage soul now speaks its own language of “cussing”. “For the Love of Biscuits” would be likened to, “What the hell?”.
As a kid raised in the south the only time you could cuss and get away with it? Was in the Baptist church! Those were the best services. Saying the word ,”Hell” in its most proper context. To a kid? It’s still an opportunity to say a “bad word”. It was always a shock to hear one person tell another to , “Go to hell!”. A good Baptist would never tell someone to , “go to hell”, that would be rude! A good Baptist only tells you, “ you are already going to hell” because you are not a Baptist. I say this with a giggle, I hope it made you giggle too. If not, you must be a very good Baptist and think that I am already going to hell.
A sense of humor is so needed in these days! People are changing. Families are changing. The world is changing so fast! If we don’t laugh, we’ll cry our hearts to stone.
The world is full of “fruit loops”. Another word that is from my vintage soul that would be likened to, “stupid idiot”. Yes, a polite way of expressing how stupid and fruitless a person’s actions or thoughts can be.
“Fruit Loops”, leave you confused. Don’t even try to figure out their motives. They are sugary sweet with no nutritional value. They are people who come into your path and causing cavities that eat away at the enamel of your teeth. If you don’t brush and floss daily, removing every bit of them from your life? You can end up in serious discomfort, pain or in debt.
My husband, who has known me now for over twenty years has been a witness to these new expressions becoming apart of my everyday vocabulary. He still chuckles when he hears me say them. Being a man from the North, I entertain him with my southern ways. We are a great blend and I am more than happy to no longer be that gypsy woman, spewing off like a truck driving sailor who works the overnight shift. It’s just so much easier to write politely. I don’t get in as much trouble, either.
The “Oy, Vey!” that flies out of my mouth when I am frustrated instantly disqualifies me as a Baptist! I’m sure of it. That’s ok…bless their little hearts.
If there is such thing as a Southern Jewish Princess…I may be it!
Take me shopping and whip me up some sweet tea.
Laugh, giggle, snort. It is medicine to the soul!
