Soap language

Rev. Cheryl Cruce Contributor Growing up, I recall the phrase “soap language.” I do not ever remember the taste of a soap bar; the threat of it was enough to keep me mindful of my words. I do not remember any of us being punished much for our speech or behavior in our growing years. It seems that Mom and Dad ruled with a quiet authority, tempered with love. We grew up respecting our parents and each other. We didn’t know much about the world beyond our neighborhood. The telephone was connected to the wall with party line capability. A party line meant one could carefully pick up the phone and hear a neighbor’s conversation. I did that once, and Mom walked by, took the phone, inte