Teaching Mom Bad Words

I got together with Mom yesterday for lunch and a general hang. After burgers at Red Robin she wanted to check out the new Steve & Barry’s everyone has been talking about…the store where everything inside is $8. Of course, now everything is 15 bucks. Still not much for a pair of jeans, but when you’re used to everything being 8 dollars, all of a sudden 15 sounds ridiculous.

We were browsing through the T-Shirts With Funny Slogans section and came across a shirt that had the silhouette of a shapely woman pushing a baby stroller on the front. Across the bottom of the shirt it read got milf?

Mom pointed at it and laughed. I think she thought it was funny because “milk” was spelled wrong because she looked at it for a second, thought about it, and then admitted, “I don’t get it.”

In my head I was repeating over and over Please don’t ask me what a MILF is please don’t ask me what a MILF is please don’t ask me what a MILF is.

And of course, it came. “What’s MILF?”

Saturday, October 28, 2006. The day I told my mom about the word MILF.

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