I don't remember which episode of Desperate Housewives it was, but Bree, the überhausfrau chided one of Lynette's kids with "Don't be common, young man."

That sent me into a gale of giggles. Okay, I know it's not that funny. But when you are 'common' like me, it's hard to fathom what 'uncommon' requires. Good manners and...I'm at a loss.

Just for kicks, I tried it out on my kids the next time they were being crude. "Enough poop talk. Don't be common." I immediately got 20 questions. "What's a common? Is poop common? Why is common bad? Can we talk about pee? Mommy, YOU said poop. Are you common?"

I floundered for a proper response. "Common means ordinary. Uh, not that talking about poop is ordinary. Talking about P-O-O-P is crude and means you have bad manners."

My daughter cut in: "My teacher says we are all special in our own ways. I'm special, which means I'm not ordinary. And if I'm not ordinary, then I can talk about poop. Because I'm special."

"Okay, kids, forget about the whole common thing. Just stop with the poop talk."

"Ha! Mommy said poo-oop. Mommy said poo-oop."

I've also tried "Civilized People do not behave like that, young man." This lofty smackdown was greeted with chimpanzee noises and rolling around on the floor.

I must press on. But first I think I need to work on a little personal refinement. The proof? All morning I've had a ditty stuck in my head, tune only. As I strolled back into the house after dropping my son at preschool, the words popped into my head:

"Great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts, mutilated monkey meat, little dirty birdie feet..."

High Freakin' Class.