He couldn't handle the word "t--t." And there are things you can tease a person over. The fact that their forehead can sustain an extended family's food supply for a year or that she laughs with snorts and snickers. But this one, no. You can't say it. It is even hard to type it. His mood is ruined for days if he hears the word. He would rather you talk about his mother's sex life than say this word. (The word is "toot." Just don't tell him I told you. And don't you fucking dare joke about it.) So, when we were driving to the Mexican grocery store one August and Bart Simpson came on the radio and starting the ditty:
Beans, beans
it's the magical fruit!
the more you eat
the more you--
I yelled straight into his ears so he would not have to hear it. This put him into a bad mood for the entire dinner. I guess he does not like loud voices as well. He would turn out not to like cats. Best friends. Soul music. Grass stains. Showers. And more. And I continued to keep him from being exposed to these.
I am better now. I punch people when I'm drunk and I laugh as loud as I like.
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