Ummm--ok--
I don't know what those are either.
Can you really pretend things like that don't exist in a houseful of boys? ALthough I admit that I have developed a blank, sort of retarded look I assume when I don't want to answer things.
Growing up, we called fizzling-oh, dear- this is even worse than using the F word-- Shooting Bunnies. My mother was very big on euphemisms.
ANd when Skippy(my brother) and I were about 10, a couple moved in next door, Their last name was Gunn. And his nickname was Bunny-
Bunny Gunn. God, we laughed ourselves sick over that. I remember it so clearly-sitting at the dining room table the first night we'd met them and Skip and I pointing at each other, making farty noises, and Mother saying, "Stop that right NOW! That is very rude!"
He was a wonderful man, a true Southern Gentleman, our State Representative for years. |
