Agood way to fixabad word

This one goes back tomy childhood.

And the worst word you could ever say.

Two words really, if you’re a stickler for counting.

Two words, that when put together would get you in so much trouble withmy mother that even more than four years after she passed, I hesitate to write them.

For purposes of this column, I will take the chance that she might reach down from the heavens and pinch the inside ofmy arm.

“Shut up.”

Really. Those are the words. You could sooner say the f-word tomy mother than let her hear you say, “Shut up” to anyone.

You, too, Dear Reader? Did you grow up with a word or phrase that wasn’t a big deal in the outside world, but at your house brought down the hammer?

My mother believed “Shut up” was the worst, meanest, rudest thing you could say to anyone.

God forbid she heard you say those two words, she’d immediately correct you, “We say, ‘Please be quiet.’”

Each one of us three kids had that one time where we sassed back, “You say, ‘Please be quiet.’ I say, ‘Shut up.’”

Yeah, you did that exactly one time.

See above reference to inner arm pinch to understand why. Just make sure you’re picturing her Evil Eye glare to get the full effect.

Even as adults, we kids have an automatic reflex to hearing those words. I have involuntarily corrected strangers on subways with, “We say ‘Please be quiet.’” It just comes out.

All this is onmy mind this week, as I felt the need to speak with Husband about a word he uses on occasion.

Knowingmy family history, he wouldn’t dare say, “Shut up.”

“Hush,” on the other hand, has shown up more than once as he finishes a thought he doesn’t want interrupted.

I don’t think he means harm and yet, thatword still makes me recoil.

“When you say, ‘Hush,’ it sounds an awful lot like ‘Shut up,’ to me,” I explained in a quiet moment.

He looked at me like I was kind of crazy, which I’ll own. But he loves and respects me, so he didn’t discountmy point.

He went for compromise. “How about ‘Please be hush?’” he offered, bringing in the proper response to “Shut up.”

“Not going to cut it,” I responded.

Husband went quiet, hushed if you will.

“I’ve got it,” he declared, “How about hush puppy?”

“Hush puppy?” I tried it on, laughing at the silliness of it, appreciating humor as the perfect way to break the tension of a difficult moment.

We’re going with it.

The next time he feels the need to get his complete thought out, he will blurt out, “Hush puppy!”

Husband upped the ante. “We’ll just tack ‘puppy’ onto any potentially offensive word,” he declared. “Butt puppy. Poop puppy. Go to puppy, you puppy hole.”

Some might not want to hear it.

That’s fine.

You say, “Shut up.” We say, “Hush puppy.”