You Can't Wash the Truth Away With a Bit of Soap

My mouth got me into tons of trouble growing up, and it started early.  Here is a favorite family story (that for some reason has been put to rest in the past ten years . . . strangely, my mother hasn't told this story even one time to my children):  When I was three, I told my mom she was stupid.  My mom let me know we didn't say that and washed my mouth out with soap to make sure I understood.  As the story goes, when she finished, I looked at her and said, “You’re ‘till ‘tupid.”  Furious, my mom washed my mouth out with soap again.  Once again, when she finished, I said, “You’re ‘till ‘tupid.”  After seventeen rounds and a threat that I couldn’t be a part of the family anymore if I called her that again, I stopped.  Looking back, I think, “Wow, what a smart, determined, and truth-declaring three-year-old I was!”  I totally got that soap in my mouth didn’t change my mother one bit.  

You can't wash your stupid away with soap.