* Twas the night before Christmas Eve, and all through the house children were sobbing.
* Middle Child said "_____ sucks" (naming the reason they were all crying).
* The other two stopped crying and looked to me, scandalized (we do not use language of even the mildest sort here, including "sucks," and I think they expected me to faint or something).
* "IT DOES SUCK!" I roared, for shock value, and Middle Child stopped crying too and they all gaped at me for a moment, and then Big Child lost it and started laughing. "WHAT IS SO %^&# FUNNY? SOME THINGS SUCK AND SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO SAY SO!" I thundered, "in fact, THIS is what I think of THAT," I declared, shifting to one side and farting mightily (the spirit moved me, y'all, and I have BOYS--sometimes you have to do these things). "OH MY GOD, MOMMY, YOU NEVER CURSE OR POOT!" shrieked Big Child, when he could speak. "TODAY I DO, IT'S FESTIVUS!" I informed my belly-laughing progeny, and then introduced them to the concept of Festivus and the accompanying Airing of Grievances.
* Once they had double- and triple-checked that there would be no consequences, my children very tentatively began to curse (well, Big Child and Little Child did--Middle Child cut straight to the Mother Of All Curse Words with an emphatic "f*ck ____!" and went to bed crying because I didn't tell them it was Festivus and let them start airing their grievances until almost bedtime, stating that "you shoona talt us dat SOONER so I ken say f*ck all d@mn DAY!") (I was amused to note that his speech delay did not affect his use of profanity) (also if there's anything cuter than Little Child saying the worst word he could think of ["STUPID!"] and waiting for lightning to strike I'd be surprised).
* Then I ad-libbed a Closing Ceremony involving the brushing of the bad words from our teeth and put them to bed in good spirits, despite _____.
* Last night, Santa left everyone electronic joy under the tree, and me a bar of soap for my mouth. Great hilarity!
* From all of us here at Casa MFA to all of you out there, "Merry f*cking Christmas!"
As far as what ______ was, let's just say the opening ceremonies of our new holiday coincided with their father calling them to say goodnight and give them some unwelcome news about how they would be spending Holiday Visitation and leave it at that. They had begged me to do something about it and I couldn't, and I think we were all feeling a little impotent and in need of some grievance-airing. If my ex-husband's lawyers are reading this, you will note that it was the first time my children had heard me curse or pass gas, which I think means I'm doing pretty well. Also, I couldn't say anything worse than "d@mn" while looking at their cute little faces. Talk to your client about where Middle Child picked up the f-bomb. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your backsides in the new year.