Call it Like it is

Boobs
Boobs
They’re called boobs.

Why do we always have such an issue with calling a spade a spade?  If it’s in the deck of cards, and it’s not a club, a diamond, or a heart, it’s a spade.  See, was that so difficult?  So why on earth do we have to use so many euphemisms for everything else?  Why can’t a person just die?  Not that I want anyone to die, but when they do, can’t they just be dead?  Why do we always have to say they’ve passed away, or they’ve gone to a better place?  We are confusing the children of America by doing this.  The three-year-olds have started to tell us that they don’t want to go to school today. They want to go to a better place.

When other women start talking about “down there,” I start getting confused, and I’m not even three years old!  Some call it your privates.  Others tell me they are referring to the carpet as opposed to the drapes.  Even Oprah tells us it’s a va jay jay.  Honestly, I don’t want anyone saluting my privates, getting out the Hoover for my carpet, or comparing any part of my anatomy to some children’s  airplane cartoon character.

Then, of course, we move on to the opposite end of the female body.  You know, the boobs, the girls, the tee tas.  We spend a fortune on these things.  We buy bras to push them up, bras to minimize, and bras to lift and separate.  But God forbid we say the word that actually goes into these expensive contraptions. Why is it that we can’t just call them what they are?  It’s getting ridiculous.  Do you know that in most school library’s today, they have blocks on the internet so that kids can’t even look up a recipe for chicken breasts?  Oh my God, I said it: breasts.

Years ago, my dad had a secretary who told him of the time her three-year-old granddaughter came to spend the night.  The only other woman the child had ever seen naked was her mother.  When the grandma went to take a bath and removed all her clothing, the little girl asked her a simple question.  She pointed to the upper half of her grandmother’s body and said:  “grandma, are your breasts dead?”

Let the three-year-olds of  America unite! Let free speech reign.  Let’s put death, vaginas and breasts back into the English language.

Let’s chat.  Is there a fake name being used for something in your life?  I’d love to hear about it.  Please leave a comment and tell me all about it.

For more humor from Leslie Handler go here

Share this Post:

11 thoughts on “Call it Like it is”

  1. This reminds me of my favorite song from “Cats.”

    Mammaries
    All alone in the moonlight
    I can smile at the old days
    They were beautiful then.

Comments are closed.