Last night and well… every night, Popeye made me giggle with his usual phone call. He updated me on his daily ritual and all the inner workings of A-school. This is nothing out of the blue, but his word choice was.
Now for a bit of background on me. Eighteen members of my family are military. Out of those 18, nine are Sailors. I grew up hearing an assortment of colorful language. It was instilled in me from a young age to use the best word that the situation called for. I could sling the “Sailor” talk just as well as my cousins, older brother, and all of their friends. It’s never really phased me.
But apparently using Sailor speak around me phases Popeye! He tried his hardest to change every curse word into something more appropriate. In most instances, he is successful, but it is tremendously funny to hear. I called him out on it last night. He bashfully explained,
“Gee Ollie… I can’t. It’s not right to talk like that around you. The guys sure…. but they’re Sailors and well… you’re my girl. You deserve better of me.”
Awe…. He’s my sailor and a gentleman.