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There’s going to be trouble my friends.

Right here in my condo! 

Overlooking the Humber Arboretum.

That’s trouble, with a capitol “T” and that rhymes with ME!

OK, that is enough of my lame attempt to be clever with “The Music Man“. I’m definitely not Randy Rainbow.

The fact remains there is going to be some trouble, right here where I live, for me. I know you may find it hard to believe but, I use to be quite prudish when it came to language. It’s true, as they say, “Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth.”

The “F” word was not in my personal vocabulary until I was well into my 20s and I wouldn’t even tolerate the “C” word  being uttered anywhere near me. As I got older my language became a little more colourful and I became a little less judgemental. I had a couple of friends who used the “F” word as a noun, adjective, and verb in their daily speech. Over time you don’t really even hear it any more and become desensitized. By the time I was into my 50s I had learned a lot of words in between the “F” word and the “C” word. As life continued and I spent more time in difficult situations and a lot of time in really bad traffic 

I became quite proficient in using all those words. Seldom was the air in my car not blue (sometimes even purple) from my outbursts. Now, in 2020, I am just a crazy lady with a foul mouth and purple hair.

   

He-Who and I have been together upwards of 20 years. When we first got together I was still not fluent in foul language. He was pretty good at it. With my ^frail sensibilities^ still intact I let him know that speaking like that was offensive and that I would not tolerate it. Adaptability is not his strongest trait but he put his best foot forward and as the years went by the cuss words came less often. I should maybe clarify, I heard them less often. When he’s with his peers I can only assume boys will be boys and he can keep up. 

Unfortunately, also as the years have gone by, so has He-Who’s hearing. He holds multitudes of Rock concerts when he was younger accountable for his loss of hearing. We have spent a great deal of time having conversation where his only line is “What?”

and I just repeat the same thing over and over until he finally gets it. My voice gets louder with each repeat. My enunciation becomes clearer and (sadly) my patience gets thinner. There is often a whole string of those colourful words perfectly enunciated under my breath just out of earshot for He-Who. He says, “What?”

and I say, “Nothing.” Now, I can go through the whole day enunciating the heck out of every foul word in the foul word dictionary. I don’t even think about it anymore. I just go off on a tangent and he is blissfully unaware of my skills. Until now. 

He-Who is getting a hearing aid. He thinks it is unfair that I have to constantly repeat myself and shout everything I say. Of course, I am very happy for him. He won’t have to ask me what someone on the TV said. He will be able to have real conversations with his grandchildren that he can actually hear. I think it will be wonderful for him. I can also see some of the benefits for me. What terrifies me is that he is now going to hear everything I say. Everything! Wait until he finds out he is married to a foul mouthed shrew!

There’s going to be trouble.

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The Music Man

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