A Prude Impasse

Dear Reader,

Your Prude is in big BIG trouble this morning. She’s got nothing to write about. Things are so bad, she momentarily considered analyzing songs of the 1800’s.

What happens is this: The disapproval part of her nature- (the part that wants to tell musical troupes that ‘Linkin Park’ ‘def Leppard’ or ‘The Monkees’ are horribly misspelled) is brim full of frowns, while the approval side of The Prude (the part that cheers geese flying in perfect V-formations) is equally jam-packed with goodwill.

This is something we call ‘Prude Persona Impasse’.  The number of persons, places, things or events that need correcting/lecturing/disapproval is PERFECTLY balanced with things in the noun or verb kingdom of which Prudes approve. The resulting stalemate renders Prudes useless. We are at a standstill, unable to move in any direction. It is a frightening place for a Prude. The world swirls around her, in desperate need of a good lecture or a pat on the shoulder blades, and she is unable to perform her sworn duties.

However, the deadlock need not be permanent. Prudes have learned to handle standoffs by going back to their roots in tiny baby steps. And of course those roots are born in DISAPPROVAL.

So come with Your Prude as she casts her mind over the flotsam and jetsam of disconnected Disapprovals. None of them weighty enough to warrant their own post, but lumped together they will help her gain the strength to break out of the Approval/Disapproval Catch-22 in which she finds herself this morning.


-SHIFTING KEYS: When The Prude’s fingers are galloping along the keyboard at their customary 32 WPM (with gusts up to 33 or even 35) she will notice that, instead of Prude, she is now the PRude or worse yet Rpude.

EXPLODING JUICE POUCHES: These were offered as snacks to the Prude’s children after soccer/baseball/basketball games. The Prude, knowing what would happen to the back seat of the family vehicle if her children were to poke straws into those bloated shiny bags, would do it herself. In a dozen years she never got the straw into the pouch without a stream of juice in her eye or on her shirt.

WILDLIFE IN THE HOUSE: Whilst baking a tasty treat for her loved ones yesterday The Prude discovered a flour beetle in her batter. It was already dead. This constitutes Double Disapproval- first for lurking in the flour and not being discovered till the expensive butter had been added, and second for dying before a lecture could be delivered.

RANDOM PATHS: Mosquitoes and flies, fleeing toddlers, and a vitally important piece of paper blowing in the wind all have one thing in common- as soon as they are about to be swatted or grasped they flit, flee or fly in a random direction leaving one swatting or grasping at air with a foolish look on one’s face.

There- that should do it. Four disapprovals will hopefully open up Your Prude’s brain so that Friday she can finish the week off with a rip-roaring disapproval post.

With love and hope,
Your Rpude