Never, ever curse.

Have you ever had a week where you said the D-Word (dam#), and then whether you meant to or not it kind of started pouring out of your mouth every time you stubbed your toe or dropped the salt or realized 30 seconds too late that there was no toilet paper?

This was one of those weeks.

I did not have a lovely morning. My not lovely morning came on the tail of a terrible night’s half-sleep, the kind of night where you’re upset at your husband so you try not to touch him all night long, then end up never falling into a deep sleep because every time you do you accidentally brush his leg with your disloyal wandering foot and quickly surface long enough to fight the urge to cuddle up next to him…it was that kind of night.

My day was full of all sorts of obnoxious mishaps, including forgetting my wallet and identification and not realizing it until I got to the Ramstein gate. If you depend on money and ID for every transaction and interaction, this is a serious problem–especially when you’re out of gas.

Of course, I had to call Jason who had to chaperone me all over base while I kept him from his important work with obnoxiously necessary errands.

But the real low light came when I dropped Georgia off at pre-school co-op. This week belonged to one of the most lovely, delightful girls I’ve ever met. The kind that is wholesome and pure and only has pictures of Jesus up, the kind of woman I hope to someday become-ish. Mostly, she’s a girl I really want to be friends with.

This was the first chance we’ve had to kind of get to know each other. We visited about our families and the curriculum and basic mommy-speak before I bid her farewell, feeling super good that I’d maybe made myself a new friend. The kids all headed over to see me out the door and I smiled and went to shut the door when…

BAM!!

I slammed my thumb in the door. This was almost instantaneously followed by…

“DAMN!!” That’s right, straight from the horse’s mouth.

I don’t know which thing horrified her more, my bleeding thumb or my foul language. Really? I just met this girl, I like her. I want to be her friend. And that’s her first real impression of me?

Damn.

She did promise not to tell anyone, so we’ll just keep my dirty language between us.