The Dictionary of Lost Words

If you've never had a potty mouth

(jr. high doesn't count), the impact of those well-timed &!@*% bombs are that much sweeter.

Five stars for The Dictionary of Lost Words, by Pip Williams, the story of Esme growing up in the workspace which was nothing more than an old garden shed converted to a space with desks and "pigeon holes" where a small group of men attempted to create a record of every single word in the English language. 

Process took years to sort through submissions, hand written, hand mailed with references from hard back books read by people, not Googled in a search engine. 

And after all that, they had to decide what words were worth saving and which weren't.

They tugged at the philosophy that some words would be better-off forgotten. 

I remember when my son was a third-grader got in trouble for using "douche" in school.

It would be impossible to track down the trail of where he learned that word. It's been swirling around since I was a third-grader or before. Back then we at least had commercials advertising "douches," yet how it became derogatory and well-known among the more children more comfortable slinging vulgarities, we'll probably never know. But thirty years later still it lingered.

My tactic was to explain what it meant. I figured with the visual popping up in his mind every time he considered hurling it at someone when he was angry, it might discourage the use.

I was right.