“Let us swear while we may, for in heaven it will not be allowed.” ~ Mark Twain

 I just found out that my ninety one year old Nan got a tad pissed off at my two cousins yesterday.  Nan cursed the hell out of them (said she’d f*cking kill them is they mess with her) and yeah, she wanted to cut them THREE ways: long, deep and repeatedly! Why? Because once you hit ninety, you have the right to get pissed off whenever you feel like it, do you need a reason?

(ITALIAN LESSON: swear/cuss/curse word = parolaccia) 

What really ticked nan off was the discovery of my cousins touching her personal piles of paper “stuff” (paperstuff, mind you, that’s been accumulating mold and mildew in old stinky cardboard boxes for at least three decades, but to my nan, this old crap is as important as it was back in the early seventies).

Today I called my loony lovable mom to fill her in on her mom’s recent cursing and knife-wielding spree. Her reply?
“Well, I guess it’s never too late to start swearing.”  

True ma — and I’m thankful nan doesn’t have her own Italian heater!