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Tour of Texas

It's always difficult to not freak out when your child utters his or her first expletive.  No matter how hard you try to shield them from vulgar language, and no matter how hard you try to not freak out when they invariably bust out with one of the really, really bad ones in public, it is just going to happen.

El Hubbo and I have managed fairly well to remain calm and attempt to stress the seriousness to our children of not using many of the words they will overhear or learn from their friends.  I've even been known to get up from a table in a restaurant and ask the people next to us to watch their language.  We relocated from our seats at a certain college baseball stadium.

We've taken extra precautions to edit our own language, which is difficult when one has just broken one's toe against the foot of the bed.  (Yep, speaking from experience.)  El Hubbo, in his extraordinarily creative way, has more than once had a standard household incident that causes immediate and severe pain (stepped barefoot on legos/hot wheels, rammed a pencil in his foot, had a cowboy boot-wearing child stomp on his toe, etc. - you get the idea - no one's foot is safe in our house) reduce him to a silent scream, typically followed by the start of a highly inappropriate one-word descriptive of his thought on the matter, but the stern-narrowed eyes of his wife cause him to mid-word change course to a more acceptable phrase:  SAN ANTONE!!!!

Mention San Antonio around our children and they will run and duck for cover.  They will peep around the hallway wall to see which of their left-behind toys was the primary offender, and if it is their sibling's, offer said sibling up in sacrifice.  I fear my children will never know what a beautiful city San Antonio can be, as it will forever be associated with their father crumpled in anguish and threatening to throw away all their toys.

SAN ANTONE has become a regular expression of frustration by El Hubbo.  Especially when he is confused and confounded by the lack of common sense exhibited by his offspring.  (I can't help that they take after him!)  I have visions of him as an old man, wandering the halls of a retirement home, shaking his head and muttering "San Antone, San Antone, San Antone" over and over.  It's not hard to envision as he pretty much does that now.

The other day, however, El Hubbo instructed Jake to go out of our bedroom and do something.  I can't remember what.  (You'll understand in a minute.)  Jake was watching t.v., which essentially means he can't hear you as moving pictures are as fascinating to him as fire was to the cavemen.  Next we hear, "JACOB - DID YOU HEAR ME?  SAN ANTONE!"  Jake looks at his father, and in typical childish rebellion, throws his hands up defensively and says, "Alright, Alright!  I'm going!"  He leaves the room, and El Hubbo hears him mutter:  "EL PASO!"

After the shock wore off, we could not help but collapse in laughter.  The original sin was forgotten as the more we thought about "EL PASO!" the funnier it got.  We figure we'll all just pick a town in Texas to express our frustration.  Some are more suited to it than others - "FREDERICKSBURG" is a little difficult to add the proper tone of exasperation.  "MIDLAND" just doesn't sound frustrating enough.  "SWEETWATER!"  nope.  I think I shall go with "HOUSTON!" as it plays nicely between clenched teeth.

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