I had all these aspirations when you were born that I would stop swearing. I tried like hell – heck – to curb myself.
When I was pregnant with my first, I thought a few slip-ups wasn’t too bad. What’s going to hurt the fetus more; that I swore or that I stood to close to a can of tuna?
When you were babies, I thought that I should really buckle down and watch my mouth, but you were sleeping most of the time anyway, what was the point?
When you were toddlers…well…what are the chances you’d repeat that one word? I mean, you guys said it every time you tried to say ‘fork’ anyway.
And now you are little kids. Yikes!
Here’s the problem; I like swearing. Mind you, I’ve really cut back. Even I blush thinking about how much of my daily word quota consisted of crude language in my past. It’s unnecessary to speak so crassly all the time. But… sometimes only a good ol’ swear word will do.
Sooo…you two have said bad words on occasion. Here is our fix: We’ve told you you’re not allowed to swear until you’re 16.
And you bought it.
I don’t know why it works, but it totally works. You two don’t swear not because you don’t know those words, but because you aren’t old enough.
It’s worked so well that we’ve added other words to the list. In our house the following are swear words: Stupid, Hate, Shut Up.
When I or other adults or people on TV use these words you kids always call it, “Aw! You said a bad word!” I answer, “Yup. But I’m old enough.” And that’s it.
This has led Buddy to say on occasion, “When I grow up to be a man I’m going to live in my own house and swear.”
That’s a damn good dream, Buddy!