Since I had been a fan of Western movies from early childhood, I looked forward to living in Texarkana, Texas after I heard the head of our household had received military orders to be stationed there on an Independent Duty assignment.
When our infant daughter, Geralyn was six weeks old, we made the trip to our new chapter of cowboy adventures. The closer we drove to Texas, the larger the belly buckles and bigger were the hats we saw along the way,
Arriving in our new town meant introducing D.J. to his new school, so cradling Geralyn on one arm, I ushered D.J. and his younger brother, Duion into the principal’s office. Little Duion jostled against his brother’s arm as they went through the doorway and immediately spouted his favorite phrase, “Nerdie Nerottin Dinkin Donk!”
I quickly grabbed his shoulder in reproach for the outburst and felt the gentle nun patting my arm as she said, “They say what they hear, my dear. They say what they hear.”
It was useless to explain to the dear nun that it was not foul Marine Corps off-color locker room talk my son had just spoken but a familiar Kentucky phrase, “Dirty, Rotten, Stinking Skunk!”
So much for making a good impression on a new school district.