When I grow up.....

I was watching that commercial again, y’know the one, all those old people saying what they want’a be when they grow up.....I told Millyrose that I want’a be a curmugeon when I grow up ‘ n she told me I already was....so I looked it up....the word, I mean.....”a angry or surly person”.....I don’t think I c’n do it...Oh, I c’n get grouchy for a little bit but I can’t stay that way ‘n I ‘m almost never surly which translates as “bad-tempered and unfriendly”....too much Smith, I suppose....my mother, on the other hand, could be curmugeonly at times....I expect it was a bit of that dark Irish soul that was buried somewhere in her psyche ‘n no doubt had its roots in The Bradshaw.....Mom never talked much about the Bradshaws....didn’t seem to like ‘em all that much...
said the old man had a brogue so thick that she couldn’t understand much of what he said....anyways, when the temper was upon her, she’d cloud up like a summer storm in the mountains ‘n rain on everybodys parade....
fortunately, her storms didn’t last too awful long, at least not long enuff for her to be a successful curmugeon ‘n I suffer from much the same Smith curse....I just can’t seem to stay angry long enuff to be a really good curmugeon (sighhhhh...lack of talent, I suppose)