So I speak to you like children…

Ok, here’s a word I could have gone my whole life without knowing the definition of - santorum.

I mean, I think it’s rather amusing. Sort of like that bit in Robin Hood: Men in Tights, “From now on all the toilets in the kingdom will be called Johns.” I also don’t have a problem with the subject matter itself; live and let live, don’t knock it till you try it and all that (not that I have, but I’ll get to that). No, I take issue with the word ‘frothy‘.

Frothy should only ever apply to cappuccinos. As a result of my foray into the twisty world of vocabulary I will never be able to look at another Starbuck’s Grande Cappuccino in quite the same way again. In fact, I venture to say here and now, that I will be sticking to Double Espressos from here on out. On the upside, as I’ve shared my newfound knowledge with my wife, I can now turn to her the next time she’s having her much loved Starbuck’s and say “Mmmmm, frothy.” and likely get at least a spit-take if not the ever hoped for ASNeR, or Acute Spontaneous Nasal Reflux. That’s shooting your drink out your nose for those of you not familiar with DSC.

I suppose that I’ve been entertained as well as scarred, so that’s a plus. As to me not having tried this sort of activity, as mentioned above, this sort of topic often gives me pause. This is because I realize with an almost shame that the life experiences I’ve gained in thirty-three plus years on this miserable little rock of a planet amount to a hill of beans compared to some segments of the population. I often feel like one of those kids, both horrified and facinated, in the creepy carnival in Something Wicked This Way Comes.

Then again, I’ve repelled out of the hell-hole of a CH-46 in the middle of the night, one-hundred feet off the ground, so I suppose it all balances out.