What the...

My best friend’s baby is eleven. Not remarkable in and of itself but since my best friend and I are only 29 it is hard to believe her baby is eleven already. (Yes we have been 29 for 14 years but that is beside the point.)

And this kid is smart. She is the spawn of a five foot nine, red headed, walking encyclopedia, a natural red head no less, and her husband, a college graduate from the big city, New York city big city, who actually still reads paper newspapers, and can finish the Sunday crossword.

So my friend was lamenting to me that they can no longer use innuendo and code words in front of the child because you just can’t get anything past her since she was about nine. My friend also had some parental guilt about the frequency in which they drop the f-bomb in front of the baby.

It reminded me of how my Aunt Ruth used to send me out of the room before letting loose with a whopper. It would really smoke my cheese that the older ones got to stay in the room. I realize now that protecting kids from words that have so many foul uses can save them a lot of pain. Like the time I called my sister a whore; I had heard my brother use the word and I thought it was a kind of pig. Well, one good whack with a broom handle will make you think twice about being sure of the definition of a word before you use it in your mother’s presence.

But it makes it so much sweeter as you make the rite of passage and are allowed in the room as your parents or aunt speaks freely. My mom never cussed much, but somewhere over the years we kids wore her down and I heard her drop more than one f-bomb over the family Christmas get together. Being seventy six gives the delivery just that extra added little touch.

Well apparently my friend’s baby was having a frustrating moment the other day. Now, at eleven you might be able to pull off a damn-it in front of your mom, but not the bomb, not unless you like just cut off a toe or something.

So the kid lets loose with “What the sauerkraut!!!”

Oh my Gawd I love it. “What the sauerkraut!!” They’re not even German.

The funny thing is my Aunt Ruth was German.

I can’t wait to find a way to use this, imagine the possibilities:

What the sauerkraut do you think you are doing?

Go sauerkraut yourself!!!

Listen you little sauerkraut, if you don't straighten up, me and the boys is gonna beat the sauerkraut out of you, see!!!

Look at the hot babe over there; I'd lik to give her the polska and a sauerkraut.

Oh sauerkraut, I just cut off my toe!!!