Oh double crap. I may have the tendency to swear. Yes, I know other words to say, but unfortunately, they just don’t flow out of my mouth as freely as the more fun, colorful words do.
I never swore growing up. Ever. I didn’t start until I began hanging out with my grandpa in my twenties. You see, I would go and take him to lunch or dinner 2-3 times a week and then we would go and visit my grandma in the nursing home. I really liked hanging out with him. His stories were the best. Every other word that came out of his mouth was a swear word and I think it might of… you know… rubbed off. I like it that it rubbed off and I am going to keep it there damnit. I miss those lunches and dinners.
So when I had Emily, I curbed it the best I could. I did a pretty good job, I think. Emily said “shit” when she was 3 and I got so mad at her she has never said anything again. Even if she is retelling a story that she heard at school she will spell the word which is kind of cute. I raised her right. Emily says that she would have a horse by now if I had given her a quarter every time I said a “bad word.”
And then there is Sarah. Sarah who repeats every single fucking word that I say. Even if it is a bad word and even if I tell her to not say it. I am trying to stop around her, and I have done a really good job, but I am pretty sure she learned all she needed to know in the womb.
So we’re getting out of the car the other day and I grab her, her blanket, her cup, her hat, her doll and then I drop her cup.
“OH SHIT!” she says.
You kind of have to laugh because she totally said it in the right context.
Me: You can’t say that word.
Me: No, not ever.
Sarah: Yeah, sometimes.
Me: NO – NOT EVER!!!!!!!!
So we get into the house and she goes and sits at the kitchen table. I give her a snack and Jack steals it from her. In the softest whisper I hear, “Oh shit”
At least if she’s going to say it, she has good timing.