Excuses, excuses. Nobody's fault by my own. If I would just take care of Tescille, I'd have my hands full. An excuse is a skin of a reason stuffed with a lie. Build a bridge and get over it.
My Momma was full of idioms that I hear pouring out of my mouth daily. My favorite one was a threat to take her seriously when punishing me, "If you say a cuss word again at school, I'm going to wash your mouth out with soap." Here it is...."And if you think I'm kiddin', just stand by and watch!" I learned to take her seriously. Especially after I called a boy in my 6th grade science class a 'bitch.' The teacher wrote it on the report card - they used to do that, ya know. I had to get the report card signed and punishment came the next morning. Before leaving for school, Momma took me in the bathroom and squeezed Palmolive dish soap on my toothbrush. Yes, I had to brush with it. But wait. There is more. She allowed me to spit out the excess, but she would not allow me to rinse. She took me to school with a mouth full of soap. When the van door opened, I bolted into the school and ran straight for the water fountain.
To this day, green Palmolive liquid dish soap is not allowed in my home.
Did it work? Did I stop cussing? Well, I shoulda....