This one's for Freaky

Ok. So in my family we have really weird nicknames for each other. We'll start from the parents and go in sequential order of age and I will list some of the nicknames:
Dad--Lou; Pappy
Mom--MAHW!; Penny; Mumsy
Stephanie (me)--Sis; Sissy; Stepharennapey
Jennilyn--Nee-nee; Jen-jen; Neen
Todd--Todd-a-rina; Toddy; Superboy
Julie--Juge; Ju-ju; Jingermanson
Emily (she has the most--probably since she is the youngest and we ran out of kids, but not nicknames)--Freaky Friday (Freaky for short); Ma'am; Carolina Gadget; Me-me; Meemers; Ems; Uuh-emleay

So the topic of this post isn't really about our names--I'll have to explain those later. I read my sister, Emily's blog earlier tonight. She cracks me up. Go to the Geeks in Love link to the right and see what I mean.

Well, she talks about how sheltered we were in relation to the "bad" words. We grew up in a home where, I kid you not, dumb-dumb and poo-poo-head were the worst of the worst. It is actually very difficult to type those words. Not because I can't figure out the question of to hyphenate or not to hyphenate. It's because they still carry a sort of power of being "bad" words.

Now, you must know that Emily and I are 11 years apart. So by the time she came around, the majority of the family knew there were words worse than the above-mentioned two. Like "stupid" and "shut up." Ok. And the four letter words that can take a G rated movie to a PG and a PG movie to an R. (PG-13 didn't exist yet). But, they were banned from our home. (Except on the rare occasion when a parent-who-shall-remain-nameless would get really mad and utter a profanity. We would all get eyes as big as saucers--the flying kind--a wish we could become invisible and slink into the other room. I can still remember one such occasion in El Paso, TX, in pre-1983 when this occurred. Yes, they were that few and far between.)

I think I have sufficiently set the tone for the following event.

When I was old enough to attend Senior Sunday School, in the days before the block, I remember thinking it was pretty cool that we would sit with our Sunday School classes and have opening exercises. We'd sing an opening song, have a prayer and then take the Sacrament. Yea, for all you too young to know. We had the Sacrament twice each Sunday.

I remember that I was just getting to the age where I could pay attention enough while singing to make it through the whole song--yeah, all four verses. Well. If you have never noticed this before, all LDS hymns are pretty tame. Except for Sacrament hymns. I hear you asking yourself what I mean by this. A large percentage of the Sacrament hymns in the rotation during the late-70's and early-80's contained some choice "bad" words. Like "hell" and I think even "damn."

I was shocked!

What was I to do? I knew these were words that were off-limits. I got my mouth washed out with soap (dirty Lava, even) and got hot sauce poured on my tongue for words that were far tamer. (I was a back-talker, not a swearer!).

I was supposed to sing. But I couldn't use "bad" words. What to do?

I devised the perfect plan. I would sing along and then sing "H. E. Double tooth-picks" in lieu of hell. Yep! I was plenty pleased!

Until I realized that I just missed my opportunity to say "bad" words WITHOUT the hot sauce.

I was always so disappointed. I would resolve to sing the words with gusto next week. But I always forgot. I think the Lord tried to keep me from developing a love for colorful language.

Even now, when singing one of the few remaining songs with hell in it, I sing that particular word a little louder than the others.