There is a word Iโm not allowed to use. I love it. I love it so much. But my darling beloved wife hates it with a fiery passion.
I came across it from Anne Listerโs diary, where she says that she would โgrubble under womenโs skirtsโ and honestly. The word perfectly encapsulates the fumbling feeling of fighting your way through layers of fabric to reach the promised pussy land.
However the word has been forbidden, reviled from the first moment my beloved heard it. They shuddered and itโs truly one of the only restrictions theyโve ever placed on my vocabulary so I donโt say it. But I do think it, on occasion.
Sometimes the word will pop into my head and I will think it too hard and my wife will turn and glare at me and accuse, โI know youโre thinking it!โ
โBut I didnโt say it!โ I protest. But theyโre always right. Even with no context they always know when Iโm thinking it.
Today I told my wife, โI shared the unmentionable word with Astrid today and she quite enjoyed it. She repeated it several times.โ
They bellowed liked a dying wildebeest and said, โI can go months without remembering that word exists and then it comes up again. Itโs so disgusting, itโs what Smรฉagol would do on the ground digging for worms!โ
I was laughing and protested, โIt sounds like fighting through skirts, the groping around.โ
โNo! That is something that happens in the muck and the filth. Itโs negative sexy.
โBet you're gonna take to Tumblr and share it and some people are gonna be like, โOh what a great word! We should definitely use that in our lexicon. Top tier word!โ And you know what? THEYRE WRONG. GARBAGE WORD. GROSS.โ
I listened to their impassioned hatred while cuddled in their arms and radiated love at them and remorse for having reminded them about the existence of grubbling. But now you get to hear about it. As a treat.