So we're all playing in the loft. I can't remember the circumstances, but Gamble said something like, “Uh oh, you better hope Daddie doesn't say the M word.”
“What's the M word?”
“Oh, you know... M?”
We looked at him quizzically.
“M... Muh?”
“Still drawing a blank.”
“You know, what Daddie says. Muther...?”
We'd twigged, but too late. “Muther-fuh...?”
“Enough!” We said in unison. Disaster and borderline venial sin averted.
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