since I'm up too late

...and y'all know how I post when I'm tired, here are two PG-13 stories from Stacey's childhood.

1. I learned the German words for "thank you" ("danke schoen," pronounced... well, just about how it looks) when I was about 7 and was super proud of myself, so proud that I'd say it to anyone who gave me anything. At one point, my dad took me to a party and heard me say it to several people. He pulled me aside and asked angrily, "why are you saying 'donkey sh**' to everyone?"

2. When I was about 10, I read a book that had a word in it that I didn't know. The word? Well, it has to do with a big "o." La petit mort. A zenith. A finish. Y'all got me, right? Seriously. At a party at my aunt's house, I asked my cousin Kelly the meaning of the word. Being 16, Kelly turned me away totally mortified, and told me to go ask someone else. I did, and that person turned me over to someone else, who then told me to go ask someone else, etc. Everyone at the party found it uproarious, but nobody would tell me what the word meant. The next day, my grandma yelled at me for using words a young lady shouldn't. Great.