OK What did I say?

What?

What did I say?

Someone got to my blog searching “pussy.” 

I know they were very disappointed.  When I was 10 years old, I thought pussy was only associated with the sweet little feline four legged fur ball wearing a tail- or not if it had gotten eaten off by the neighbor’s dog.  We had to pick out a team name for our 5th grade field day.  I was in Mrs. Parks’ class.  Parks Panthers?  Parks Smarts?  Parks Tarts?  No..no…Mitchell, yes I remember your name, suggested I offer up Parks Pussy.

All the boys snickered and stared at their shoes.  I didn’t get it.  “Well,” I thought, “I got a couple pussy cats at home, sounds like a good name.”  I walked up to Mrs. Parks.  “I know a good name for our team.”

“Yes, Andrea.”

“Parks Pussy”

“Do you know what pussy means?” Her face said that I clearly didn’t.

“Um,” I thought about it, “Yes, C-A-T.”

“Find a new name.”

Everyone was laughing and I still didn’t get it.  Eventually I did.  Eventually, I used words that made the V-monologue’s blush.  Eventually, I became a women’s health nurse practitioner……….

And now I know why cats like fish.

2004_0731 Peekytoe & Digby arrive (17)

~ by drea on July 1, 2009.

8 Responses to “OK What did I say?”

  1. Oh my goodness. SOOOOOOO funny!

  2. Well to the best of my recollection, so far you have had columns on poop, pee, boobs, and …cats. Seems at this point that the last taboo for this column is a visit from Mr. Hock.

    • Are you referring to Peter? I’m not sure what Mr. Hock is……..is that what your Mommy called it? Wait, never answer that!

  3. Ummmm, no…it’s not Peter. It’s Mike. I thought you said you were a substitute teacher….didn’t you have to pass around a sign-up sheet to take role?

    • No. I got to call names and check little boxes with a pencil. Mike Hock? I am not following you. Dumb it down for me now please. And how is it taboo? Start slow.

  4. Sigh….say it out loud a few times in front of your husband. If that does not work, try to say his cousin’s name out loud. His name is Mike Hunt.

  5. Yeah, you haven’t lived until your 7th grade substitute English teacher collects the attendance sheet, counts heads and sees she has a few names too many, and calls out “Whose Dick Hertz?”. Ahhh good times, good times

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