I was writing yesterday's post (The Surprises in Room 139 - Part 3 of 3) when I noticed that my son was reading over my shoulder.
Ack!
I quickly minimized the screen and turned to look at him.
"What's up?" I asked.
He looked down for a minute and then looked at me and pointed at my screen. "I saw the word C-O-C-K. What are you writing?"
On the inside, I was screaming, "fuck, fuck, fuck...." but before I could come up with a reasonable response, he said, "Have you been writing fan fiction? I heard that lots of moms are doing that these days."
I started laughing. "No, TommyKat. I'm not writing fan fiction. That would be silly, wouldn't it?"
"I didn't think you would do that," he said, giggling.
"I was just writing a barnyard fable. I think you saw the part where I was writing about the rooster." Then I tickled him and said, "Cock-a-doodle-do!"
He laughed. "Oh, I get it. Can I read it when you're done?"
"Of course you can! Now let me get back to work, ok? We'll play later."
And he happily skipped away to play a video game.
I took a deep breath.
Barnyard fable? How did I come up with that? It was the only thing I could think of that would include a respectable use of the word c-o-c-k. Fortunately, all he knows about my work is that I do all kinds of writing for all kinds of people.
Relieved that I'd dodged a bullet, I finished writing the post. Then I opened a new blank document and started writing "Trouble on the Farm: A Barnyard Fable." The protagonist is a very proud and handsome cock who picks on the hens. If he's not careful, the farmer's wife may eat him.